Joyous Children
by UnderneathXtheXunderneath
Summary: I cannot move a single muscle as I stare at the piece of cloth hanging on the wall right across from my crib. A sheet with an all too familiar symbol stitched smack in the middle of it, its red and white coloring in a stark contrast against the dark blue surrounding it. I'm an Uchiha now. How is this even my life?
1. Prologue: 'Tis Good to be Alive

A new story!

I've always wanted to write my own SI story after reading masterpieces such as _Vapors_ and its sequel _Clarity_ by ElectraSev5en and Lang Noi's _Catch Your Breath_. Go read them if you haven't, they're definitely worth it.

So, yeah, this is my take on it. Please tell me what you think of it and if I should continue writing this. Thank you!

**Disclaimer:** What, I don't own Naruto?

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><p><strong>Prologue: 'Tis Good to be Alive<strong>

_Oh my God._

_This can't be true. I refuse to believe that_

I cannot move a single muscle as I stare at the piece of cloth hanging on the wall right across from my crib. A sheet with an all too familiar symbol stitched smack in the middle of it, its red and white coloring in a stark contrast against the dark blue surrounding it.

_Oh God. I'm still here. Why am I still here?_

_)()()(_

Up until now, I have never been fundamentally shocked in my whole relatively ordinary life.

Of course, like everybody else, I've had my share of dumbfounded, slack-jawed, wide-eyed moments. Surprise of both positive and negative nature, unexpected flashes of happiness and excitement, devastating backlashes followed by phases of near depression – sure.

But an event that was the emotional equivalent of an earthquake?

I don't think that the human mind was supposed to handle a shock of this magnitude.

That, at least, is the only answer I can think of when I look back at the first six months of my new life which I had spent in a state of total shut-down.

Yeah, that's right. First six months of my new life.

And not the I-decided-to-overhaul-my-current-uneventful-existence kind of new life. More like the I-died-in-a-car-accident-and-found-myself-in-the-body-of-a-newborn kind of new life.

All the stories I have read on the Internet are true. Reincarnation is real.

Which is an amazing thing, really. Believe me, I was fascinated about this for the first approximately five minutes after calming down from the trauma of being squeezed out of a dark warm place through a tunnel into the glaring lights of a hospital room.

Not to mention the sensation of being picked up by giant hands and placed on top of another giant person.

I guess that that was the point where I realized that I had been reborn – and man was I excited!

I know, a lot of people would say I was insane for not going at least a little bit bat-shit over this but I can honestly say that my fascination crushed any shred of panic that might have popped up.

Because, people. Think.

Score for Buddhism, Hinduism and all those other religions and spiritual belief systems that I don't know about, because, yeah, they're right. Reincarnation is a real thing.

Oh gosh, I gotta tell my brother. He's gonna freak out and then we're gonna freak out together because he's awesome like that and then my mom is gonna ask us if we're insane and we're gonna tell her and –

I started giggling madly, because, gosh, I was so giddy.

"Oh" a voice suddenly exclaimed. "_Kanojo ga waratte iru!_"

What.

Can you say that again please. 'Cause I don't think I understand … is that Japanese? My existence as an avid anime watcher is only just enough to identify that. And I'm mighty proud of that. Don't judge me.

"_Shiawasena kodomo_" the giantess underneath me cooed. "_Uchiha Etsuko. Sore wa kanojo no tame no kanzen'na namaedesu, ne, Nobuo?_"

What.

Can you say that again please. 'Cause I think I understood something this time.

I think the giantess just named me. And as an avid anime watcher, there was no way I could have missed _that_ word.

Uchiha.

…

Fucking _Uchiha_.

And in that moment it all came crashing down on me.

I had died.

I had been reborn.

As a character of the Narutoverse.

Right into the midst of one of the most dangerous clans in the Elemental Nations.

_This_, I decide, _is as good a moment to freak out as any_.

)()()(

It didn't get any better when I was sent away with the giantess and another giant – my new mom and dad.

Upon arriving at some house – excuse me for my vague descriptions but I couldn't see shit from my place in the giant's arms and, yeah, I was busy having a mental break down – I was placed into a crib and they each gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

I think they might have been concerned about my sudden muteness that stood in a stark contrast with the mad giggles right after my birth.

Mental distress is quite exhausting and I guess even more so for the body of a baby. I quickly fell asleep, only waking up when the sun was shining brightly into my room again.

So, here I am, staring open-mouthed at the Uchiha banner on my wall.

I'm still here.

Which probably means that this is real.

I, formerly of the name of Elizabeth Wang, have been reincarnated as Uchiha Etsuko into the Hidden Village of the Leaf.

How is this even my life?

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><p><em>Kanojo ga waratte iru!<em> = She's laughing!

_Shiawasena kodomo._ = A happy child.

_Sore wa kanojo no tame no kanzen'na namaedesu, ne, Nobuo?_ = That's the perfect name for her, don't you think, Nobuo?

_Etsuko_ = joyous child

Japanese directly taken from Google Translate. I have no idea if this is right.

Review?


	2. A Kick in the Ass Sure Gets you Moving

Thank you guys, for the overwhelming response to my prologue! It got me all fired up and here I am, presenting you the first chapter. Enjoy the read and tell me what you think. I love to hear from you!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>: A Kick in the Ass Sure Gets you Moving

I have always been proud to be able to say that I'm pretty quick on the uptake. And by no means do I intend to sound pretentious with that. It's just that I realized early on that it doesn't take much explaining for me to grasp the essentials of most things.

I did well in academics, had a really good record in both high school and university, was a trained classical violinist and a passionate hobby singer, wrote little stories in my off time and was generally interested in a broad range of topics.

I am by no means a genius, mind you. Most of it was thanks to my awesome mom who taught me that no matter how sharp the mind, nobody amounts to anything without hard work. Which in reverse meant that I was encouraged to make use of every bit of my time, resulting in my many fields of interest.

But unfortunately, this time I think that my ability to grasp things quite quickly was what ultimately broke me. Because I understood the implications of my predicament far too well.

For six months, I'm hardly any more sentient than a zombie.

Everything comes to a standstill.

I don't make any sounds. I stare off into the distance. I don't react to whatever giantess and giant say or do to me.

I don't sleep although I'm not exactly conscious either, drifting in a haze that blurs everything together, down to the most basic of thoughts. Hunger, thirst, the passing of time – everything is inconsequential.

I don't remember much of this time and thinking back, giantess and giant – I know, they're my parents here, but I can't seem to bring myself to think of them as such because I have awesome parents back in my world – must have been worried sick.

I guess naming me _joyous child_ might have been a bit premature on their part. Just saying.

)()()(

At some point, from within the midst of the fog my mind is clouded over with, divine intervention finally manages to steer me to some course of action.

And when I say 'divine intervention' I mean that quite literally.

I'm in my crib, busy being my catatonic self when a horrible screeching sound goes off and my vision turns _white_.

The whiteness is so bright, it stings my eyes terribly and my tear ducts immediately start working. I clamp my lids shut with a miserable whimper. It doesn't help. At all.

The whiteness creeps through my eyelids and intensifies until I feel physically bleached out from the inside.

In addition to that, my bones are rattling and every cell in my squishy baby body is vibrating with the loud screeching that sears into my ears like the heated blade of a knife. Even with my chubby fists shoved into my ears there's no alleviating the pain.

_That's it. I died a pitiful death, lived a pitiful second life and died again. Lovely._

I get the feeling that somebody is trying to prove a point. Or pulling a really tasteless prank. Whatever it is, I'm distinctly not amused.

Suddenly, the earsplitting noise stops.

I lay still for a few heartbeats – scratch it, for a hell of a lot heartbeats actually. But the screeching doesn't come back so I remove my hands from my ears.

The white has stopped trying to burn my eyeballs out as well. The intensity is manageable now and I decide to cautiously open my eyes.

Only, it doesn't make any difference.

Everything is white. There're no walls, no banners, no cribs. No above or below, no left or right, either. I could be blind for all I know.

I'm starting to panic.

It's more action than my body has seen for a long time as I work my breathing up to a harsh hyperventilating pace, my heart racing and sweat moistening my skin.

I haven't seen anything of this world, yet. I know I haven't really been trying, but I'm not ready to give it up anyway. _I don't want to go blind._

"Ah, I finally found you" a light voice says.

I whip my head around, in a frantic search for the source of it. Anything to give me orientation in this situation is fine and I don't care that I have never heard this voice before. Nor that I can't make out if it belongs to a male or a female.

"I'm right in front of you."

I blink when I finally spot the owner of the voice. I swear, whoever that is wasn't here just half a second before.

The person has long, straight black hair and wears a simple yukata in a slightly iridescent purple. The face is androgynous and I still can't tell the gender. (It's quite attractive, though.)

He/she – they! – quirk a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Finally found your bearings, I see. We can begin then."

"Who are you?" I blurt out before they can say anything else. With a start I realize that my voice sounds … normal. Not like a baby but like a grown person. Like Elizabeth Wang.

I let out a bewildered gasp and cover my mouth with my hands – only to realize that they're normal, too. I look down at the rest of my body.

A huge wave of relief floods through me.

This whole Uchiha baby business has been nothing but a nightmare. I'm back to normal again. _My_ body, though short still fully grown, with _my_ hands and _my _arms and legs. "I'm back" I whsper.

"I'm afraid not. This is only the manifestation your soul chose to confront me with in this plane. As soon as I let you go you'll revert back to your newborn body."

I manage a strangled groan at this piece of information. Of course, that would be too easy. We couldn't have that, could we?

"As to your question. I'm an official in the Bureau for soul transfer affairs and am very sorry to tell you that your predicament is due to an unexpected error on our side. We apologize deeply for that but wish you all the best with your new life all the same. If you have any questions please ask them now for this is your only chance. There won't be any further possibilities to talk to me or anyone else from the bureau after this."

I snort. Duh, which error is not unexpected?

Wait, what.

…

Bureau for soul transfer affairs? What the hell is that supposed to be? And why does that person sound like one of those voices that direct you to mailboxes?

"What … what does all this mean?" I croak out weakly.

"Please specify your question." They say really politely.

I stare dumbly while I try to sort out the mess in my mind and fish for the best question. In the end I come up with an eloquent "Bureau?"

Somehow, I don't feel that quick on the uptake anymore.

"Yes, the bureau for soul transfer affairs. Our field of responsibility is the safe guidance of souls to their destined destination across the wide range of dimensions, from creation to the stage that you call Nirvana in your world if I remember right."

I gulp audibly. If I understood this right … "That means … that means you're from heaven?!"

They smile pleasantly. "I guess you could say so."

"Then why am I here? I mean, this is the Narutoverse! It's not even supposed to be real!"

Uh oh. I can feel myself working up into a frenzy again. Deep breaths. Let that official or whatever explain.

"As I said before, this is due to a simple but unfortunate error on our side. You, Miss Wang, died in a car accident on Earth, following which your soul should have gone to Nirvana. However, a swap of your case files must have occurred somewhere along our inner workings which led to you being reborn into the world you currently find yourself in. As to the question if this world is real: it is. Otherwise your soul wouldn't have been able to get here."

Hearing my death spelt out so clearly – and in such a polite manner – feels like a blow into the stomach. If there's been any doubt about my former life and any possibility that I was still alive there and only in some kind of coma or whatever, well, there isn't anymore.

And if that wasn't enough there's still the point that my existence here is nothing but a mistake.

I wrap my arms around my torso because suddenly, I'm cold.

"Can't I go back?" I ask with a very small voice.

"I'm afraid not. You truly died there which is final."

There's a short pause in which I try to get myself together. Questions. I have to ask questions because this is my only chance to get them answered.

"Can I leave this world then? I mean, I'm nothing more than a mistake anyway, so …"

"I'm afraid not."

Haven't I heard that before.

Their face takes on an apologetic expression. "Your soul is bound to your body so you cannot freely leave. However, it's entirely your choice if you want to cease the existence of your body. If that is done, your soul will go into Nirvana just like any other soul."

"Cease the existence of my body?" I frown. "You mean, if I kill myself?"

The answer is ever so pleasant. "Or get yourself killed, yes."

Oh, this is just great. _Look, I have a choice: Suicide or victim of an accident? Or even murder? The possibilities are eeeeendlesssssssss!_

"However, if I may express a personal opinion: I wouldn't advise you to do that. In the whole of my existence, which is to say from the beginnings of mankind, there have only been a handful of humans who have been granted the chance for a second life. It's a gift usually only given under exceptional circumstances."

(There goes my theory for reincarnation as a regular thing.)

I am silent as I mull over the information.

So my existence here is a mistake in the first place. But, as my business professor in university used to say, no situation, no problem, no matter how bad, ever only has the risks and bad things. More often, new opportunities would arise with every challenge, new chances to grow and learn and to make things better.

The question is: do I want to take this chance, no matter how it was given to me? The chance to grow, learn and make things better in the Narutoverse?

…

_Why the hell not?_

…

Determination surges through me and I look up into the face of the person who can give me the answers to all my questions and see them waiting patiently. Huh, got a saint here.

"Okay. What are the rules?"

)()()(

As it happens, the rules are rather simple.

1. Do with your life what you want.

2. Nothing.

There. That's it.

It's a whole new life, they reassure me, just like the one I lived before. My choices are my own, as well as the consequences and everything in between.

"Even if I mess up the whole time line?" I ask.

"Your choices are your own" they repeat.

Hell, _yeah_.

For the first time in forever – and I can actually hear the princess of Arendelle singing this line – I feel excitement and the knowledge that I can _do_ something flowing through my veins. I'm so hyped by the time my conversational partner talks again that I almost miss him.

"However, there is one thing that you should know about."

I go still with that announcement. The air has become thick all of a sudden and I wonder if they can sense this, too. Scratch that, they might actually be responsible for that, seeing that they are definitely more in control of things than I am.

"As your soul is not a fresh one, you do not start with the life force you would usually have, had you been born into this world in the first place. 22 years of your life have already passed in your time on Earth. These will be missing now."

I blink.

I don't think I understood that.

They seem to catch on to my bewilderment.

"Every soul has an individual amount of life force at the beginning. When the soul is bound and born into a world, it is usually assumed that under undisturbed circumstances the respective person lives as long as the life force holds out. When there is a disturbance, though, that means something that cuts the life short before the life force runs out, the soul goes to Nirvana with the remaining life force untouched and is dissolved regularly."

"Which means that it's basically wasted then." I mumble, dumbfounded.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"So, I was one of those whose life was cut short before my life force ran out?"

"Yes."

"And no two souls have the same amount of life force?"

"Yes."

Oh. Well. Good thing my folks on Earth don't know about this concept. Imagine the hysteria.

_All men are created equal._

Not so much, apparently. But it's just one more thing to add to the list of what's not equal between humans, I reckon.

An idea pops into my head and festers before I can throw it out of the metaphorical window again. I turn it over and over until I decide that I want to ask.

I make many decisions today.

"Can you tell me how much of my life force is left?"

My counterpart is surprised.

"You want to know?" they ask with eyebrows almost disappearing into their hairline.

I draw a deep breath. "If it's possible, yes please."

They look hard at me for a while. I get the feeling that they're searching for something in my face and apparently they find it because they answer.

"You have 32 years left."

Well … that's not too bad, I guess. Considering that shinobi tend to die early anyway I can probably achieve quite a bit before I have to go. Provided I manage to stay alive until then.

I nod sagely to myself until another realization hits me.

I have never been supposed to live beyond 54 years of age.

Bummer.

That sucks. Majorly.

Arrrgh, is my soul that much of a weakling?!

"If you don't have any more questions, I will take my leave now. I wish you all the best for your new life. From now om, there won't be any interference from our side any more. Live how you think is best. We will probably see each other again when you're ready to depart for Nirvana."

Wait! I still have so many questions left!

I open my mouth and want to prevent them from leaving but it's already too late.

The screeching noise appears again, along with the stabbing intensity of the bright whiteness and I have to shut my eyes and stuff my ears until it's over. It's faster than the first time.

When I open my eyes, I'm back again.

Laying in the crib as a baby and staring at the banner on the wall across from me.

But this time, I don't fall back into that near coma. This time I've got a purpose. And my first step towards it is to make sure that everybody knows that I'm here. That I exist.

As I inhale deeply to let out the loudest scream ever I think to myself:

_I'm gonna be the best goddamn baby this village has ever seen._

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><p>Review?<p> 


	3. Life Planning for Dummies

I'm writing like a woman possessed, all thanks to you.

Not, but really, you guys are incredible! 315 hits, 33 alerts, 14 favs and 7 reviews for a measly 3,756 words in hardly 5 days. I already said that the last time, but, whoa, I'm so psyched now, I could write the whole day. Love you.

Enjoy the new chapter!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2:<strong> Life Planning for Dummies

A project is defined by a clear beginning and end time wise and a specific goal. Or so my textbooks on project management always told me.

I sit in a baby chair in the kitchen as I'm about to plan the biggest project of my soul span. I feel like there should be some epic soundtrack accompanying this moment but sadly, there's nothing around but the domestic sounds of my new mother – uh, still uncomfortable about that –chopping vegetables for dinner.

Seems like if I want a badass soundtrack I'll need to write one myself. That's an idea, though. I want something in the direction of the _Shingeki no Kyojin __OST_. Are there any metal bands in the Elemental Nations?

…

Anyway, back to the grand plan.

I've already decided on a name, too: Operation Uchiha Etsuko, or short OUE.

Ba-dum.

It's fancy. I dare you.

Like a model student I lay down the corner stones of the project, starting with all the important questions that begin with a W.

Who is involved? Me. Simple.

When will this take place? From now until my dying breath which spans over a period of roughly 32 years. Also simple.

What is the goal of the project?

… to make the Narutoverse a better place?

Yeah, well. That's a bit vague, I can at least admit to myself.

One of the most defining characteristics of a true goal, in comparison to a wish, is that the success has to be measurable. (Oh god, if my textbook had a conscience I would totally tell it that it's a big help in this whole reincarnation business.)

So what is the parameter that indicates that the Narutoverse has become a better place? Less dead people? More happy childhoods? A world minus Danzou?

As I mull over this question I come to the realization that this approach is not going to take me particularly far. Mainly because I don't have enough data.

Let's face it. The only things that I know for sure up until now are

1. I'm an Uchiha,

2. I have parents and

3. we're living in a house.

… which is kinda _not enough_ to base your life plan on.

I need to find out more about my situation. Most important: At which point of the timeline am I? Who are the current key players? Of the manga key players, who does already exist? Also, are my parents important people? Do they have political sway within the clan? Can I make use of –

_Oh._ I could hit myself for my stupidity.

The clan.

The Uchiha clan.

How could I forget this teensy-weensy bit of information?

As it happens, I know loads about the clan history and the Sharingan and Madara and Obito and Itachi and Sasuke, and I'm pretty sure that this knowledge will come in handy someday, but the most important detail right now is: the Uchiha still exist.

Which means that _now_ is some point before the massacre.

Which in turn makes one of my life goals pretty clear.

_Prevent the Uchiha massacre._

It's not a thing solely born from the goodness of my heart. Thing is, if the Uchiha go down, I'm going with them. I'm not even dreaming of the possibility of being on par with Itachi, because, yeah well, it's _Itachi_. So it's rather out of necessity. I like to be alive, thank you very much.

But doubts creep up my mind even before the thought is fully spelt out.

Can I do this?

This is not only about my confidence but also about things that are out of my control. If Itachi is to slaughter the clan too soon – and even 5 years from now is definitely too soon – there's nothing I can do about it.

I let out a pathetic whine at that and flail uselessly with my arms. The beginnings of a giant headache are poking at my brain.

It's all no use if I don't get any more information. Fast.

I'm impatient like that.

"_Etsuko, sweety? Are you all right?_"

I look up into the concerned face of giante- _new mom_ and find her standing right in front of my baby seat.

She is a pretty woman with the typical Uchiha features. Pale skin, large onyx eyes and raven black hair that falls straight past her shoulders. She looks incredibly tired and suddenly I feel guilty for being an unresponsive corpse for the past months. I'm sure she has heard from other women what a joy motherhood was, got real excited when she was pregnant and then – had me.

The poor woman must have thought that she was being punished or something.

I resolve to make that up to her and be a sweet, incredibly adorable baby from now on. I also promise myself to find out her name as soon as possible because although it's still hard for me to think of her as my mom, she deserves to at least be acknowledged in any sort. I _am_ technically her child.

So I blink and attempt a toothless smile, because even if I don't understand what she's saying – yet – I can at least be nice.

That's apparently the right decision, because her face shifts and she _beams_ at me. My breath hitches in my throat as I realize, _holy shit, my new mom is beautiful_.

I hope I don't come off as totally superficial here, but man, I'd really like it if I got at least some of those genes.

Encouraged, I try for something more this time. I remember the Japanese word for mother – avid anime watcher, remember? – and open my mouth to present her with my first word.

"Okaachan!"

… is what I hope comes out.

Unfortunately, it isn't. I croak something that sounds more like a strangled chicken that's trying to vomit vowels. Exquisite.

I hate untrained tongues and vocal chords immensely.

The beautiful lady _who is my mom_ seems enamored by it nonetheless and makes soft cooing noises.

"_My cute little baby girl. Mommy is so glad that everything's alright now._"

I understand next to nothing of course but I get the feeling that she's pleased.

This language barrier has to go as fast as possible.

Which brings me to the last point of OUE.

Even if I still cannot pinpoint my exact goal, there're plenty of other things that I have to do anyway.

What is needed to fulfill the project's goal? The removal of the language barrier. Recovery of my motoric abilities.

Among other things.

By the time new mom returns to her vegetables I'm already in the middle of planning the fastest and most efficient way to learn Japanese.

)()()(

New dad comes home for dinner and my new parents fall into an easy conversation that soon lulls me into a daze. I yawn loudly and the standard Uchiha male that is my dad catches it.

"_Look, Kiyomi, Etsuko is tired. We should take her back to bed_" he says in a smooth baritone.

Damn Uchiha and their perfect voices. Don't they have any flaws? Aside from the Curse of Hatred, that is.

_You're an Uchiha, too, you know?_ a voice pipes up in my head.

Huh. I tend to forget that at times.

"_You're right. I will take her_" says my new mom – whose name is Kiyomi if I understood right.

Kiyomi is a nice name. And I rigorously try _not_ to think about that one Death Note character with the same name. I already know that okaachan is much nicer than that.

She lifts me from my baby chair and carries me through the house to my bedroom. I mumble sleepily on her shoulder, trying to get 'okaachan' right.

It doesn't work as well as I want it to but going by the gentle pats on my back, okaachan is pleased with my attempts.

That settles it. I'll be able to say 'okaachan' by tomorrow and I don't care if it takes me the whole night to practice.

What can I say? I'm easily motivated by people who believe in me.

As soon as she has laid me down, covered me with my dark blue blanket, given me a kiss on my forehead – I think I'm falling in love with my new mom at this point – and left the room, I begin to practice.

)()()(

As I mentioned before, I'm a trained classical violinist. Whilst many people envy musicians for being able to make a living out of their hobby, only very few know that this profession is actually based on hours and hours of hard work.

I started playing at the age of six, at the same time I entered elementary school, with half an hour practicing time every day. After a couple of months I increased it to one hour. This continued throughout elementary school up until graduation from high school, at which point I was practicing 3-4 hours a day. After high school I went to study violin and upped that time again to 6 hours.

In addition to the raw practicing time there were lessons, concerts, masterclasses and orchestra training as well. And it was not just me doing that. Basically every classical music career works like that.

Of course with this thing going on, I wasn't hanging out with peers very much. Training to be an instrumentalist is work that you have to do on your own.

And still so many people do that willingly. Why, you ask.

It's because we want to. Because we thrive on the feeling of being able to hold an instrument and express whatever we want with it.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I firmly believe that almost every skill is acquirable with methodical practice and dedication. I'm not talking about talent here, and I'm not saying that just because you practice you get to be a pro. Far from it.

But practice opens the game. And I'm a master of practice. So I do what I do best.

I start off with exercises to warm up my facial muscles, accompanied with a low humming that brings the blood in my vocal chords into circulation.

I wrack my brain for the tips my voice instructor – bless his soul – once gave me and thank the program in my university that had allowed me to take singing lessons. Who would have thought that it would come in handy in the rare case of reincarnation?

First, breathing. Then vowels.

I wince when I hear a pitiful wheezing sound that is my voice. So tiny and weak. As Elizabeth, I used to have a powerful alto that went as deep as D3 and as high as A5. I think if I hadn't taken up the violin, I'd have become a singer.

But this is all behind me now. I have to start from scratch here.

I huff and croak my way through the night and reach my first goal, 'mama' in less than an hour. Considering that I haven't made a single sound during my zombie phase I count this as a fast victory, although 'm' and 'a' are the easiest out of the alphabet. I take a short break and proceed with 'papa'.

'Okaachan' is a long way coming.

)()()(

The faces they make as I burst out the results of my hard work at the dinner table on the next day are priceless.

And with good reason, I dare say. Apart from feeling exhausted and achy around my lips and jaw – can you believe it, I got a muscle hangover from trying to speak – I'm extremely proud that I have not only mastered 'okaachan' but also 'otousan'.

I had practiced into the wee hours of morning until my baby body had me surrendering to sleep, causing me to once again realize that even if my mind was that of an adult, my body was clearly not. Bah. As if I'd needed a reminder.

However, it caused me to realize something else as well: while I had difficulties thinking of my new parents as mom and dad, I had no qualms with 'okaachan' and 'otousan'. Which is kinda silly from an objective point of view, since they mean one and the same, but for me, it did the trick.

The human mind is a strange thing indeed.

Just for good measure, I call them again and wait for the silence to resolve itself with a rather smug grin on my face.

"_She said her first words_" okaachan finally says with wide eyes and a hand on the lower half of her face.

And then she nearly squeals: "_Nobuo, she just said her first words!_" She is so excited. A huge smile spreads across her features as she takes down her hand and laughs, a sound like the soft tinkle of a bell.

I stare unabashedly at her. Did I already mention that okaachan is beautiful?

I'm not the only one staring, though, as otousan can barely take his eyes off her. Although I'm supposedly the main attraction here I cannot begrudge him his apparent adoration for okaachan. I mean, they're so cute like that. Who would ever be angry with a couple that's so obviously in love?

A happy Uchiha couple. Feel these words melt in your mouth.

Of course, there's not nearly enough shown in the manga to say that they don't exist. But I still get the feeling that this is pretty special.

Suddenly I'm very, very glad to have them as the parents of my reincarnation.

Later, after okaachan has stopped gushing over me, an easy conversation ensues. I'm annoyed that I can't understand anything again.

"_This is incredible_" otousan says. "_It almost seems like a switch has flipped somewhere in her head. She's a completely different person from before._"

"_I know what you mean" _okaachan answers. "_But let's not question this. I'm so happy at the moment, I want to forget those dreadful months as soon as possible._"

"_Is that a good idea? I mean, of course I'm happy, too, but what if –"_

"_Nobuo, please don't. Whatever it was, it clearly is over."_

As I follow the discussion, I notice the tone in their voices gradually changing, though it's not enough that I could pinpoint anything. I strain my ears, trying to catch _anything_.

"_It's strange, though"_ otousan begins after a short pause. "_Did you notice her calling you okaa-chan but me otou-san rather than otou-chan? I'm pretty sure that's not something she picked up from me, because I sure wouldn't insist on my own daughter calling me that formally. Did you teach her?"_

Okaachan looks surprised. _"You're right. I … I didn't notice. But I didn't teach her that. But, I mean, maybe we said it accidentally? Where else would she get that from?"_

"_You must be right. I couldn't explain it otherwise, either."_

)()()(

On the next morning, okaachan takes me out to the market.

I'm super excited. Not only is it the first time I (consciously) leave the house, but I might finally get an answer to the question of where I am on the timeline.

I'm packed into a tight bundle and bound in front of okaachan's chest in a device that makes me look like sausage. A light wind blows through my sparse hair and makes the hem of okaachan's dress flutter. In addition to me, she carries an empty basket.

The market is at its peak and bustling with people. It's not long before okaachan is stopped by people who want to talk to her – and see me.

I'm freed from the confines of the device that admittedly keeps me safe and close to okaachan but at the same time prevents me from seeing anything other than her chest, which is quite annoying.

She takes me into her arms in a lying position so that I can see the faces of my observers.

As they start gushing over me I can't help but feel like I'm an animal in a zoo. They're too loud, too intrusive – several ladies try to pinch my cheek, goddamnit – and most importantly, they keep us from finishing our shopping. I don't even try to hide my annoyance from my face and I'm pretty sure it translates well.

At one point, okaachan finally decides that she has enough and starts to put me back into that holder thing.

_Sorry, but, no. I don't think so._

I flail wildly with my arms and legs and try to convey this message to her. I'm relieved to see that she understands.

The new holding arrangement has me basically sitting on her arms and my head leaning against her shoulder. Thanks to that, I get to peek over her and can finally study my environment for clues.

The market doesn't offer much, only that it is apparently within the Uchiha district, judging by the Uchiha fan displayed literally everywhere. It's on the stalls, on the walls of the houses and of course on the people's clothes. Talking about clan pride, huh.

I try to find a familiar face, anything to help me gauge where in the flow of time I am, but it's simply too chaotic. In the end, this trip to the market has not helped me anywhere near as much as I hoped it would.

Okaachan finishes with her shopping and makes her way back to our house. Although her basket is loaded now, she still lets me sit on her left arm while her right balances the groceries. That thing must be heavy, as it's filled to the brim with food, but okaachan manages it as if it was nothing.

It's thanks to this and a turn of my head that in the last moment before we enter the house I finally see the clue.

There, looming in the distance, is the Hokage Mountain.

It has three heads on it.

)()()(

So, it's the Sandaime's reign before the Yondaime, huh?

I groan as I realize the implications of this.

I'm somewhere in the middle of generation Kakashi, which means either the Third Shinobi War is yet to happen or it's happening right now.

Judging by the peaceful atmosphere on the market I will take an educated guess and say that it's yet to come.

Which is just peachy.

No, really, it's not.

Because if I want to stay with my (vague) goal of making the Narutoverse a better place, there's no way of skirting around this.

For the first time since I made this decision I second-guess myself.

What was I thinking, setting a goal like that?

I am not some badass superhero. Hell, in my first life I hated the idea of physical exertion so much that I hadn't even been able to get my ass out for a jog once in a while. I must've been the laziest person on Earth in regards to sports.

Where did I get the idea that I could make this place a better world when every important decision is made by shinobi, whose most defining characteristic is their sheer physical power? Every single one, down to the youngest genin must exercise more in a week than I have in my whole two lives. I have absolutely nothing going for me but a talent for music, an adequately quick mind and … my foreknowledge.

Which, as it happens, is a huge advantage that nobody else has.

Gods.

Does this foreknowledge place me under an obligation to improve this world?

In my previous life, I learned the hard way not to be an idealistic idiot. Just because you worked for something hard it didn't mean you would get it and just because something was unfair, even if direly so, it didn't mean it would be punished.

But I also learned that the greater goal of every decent human being should be to try to contribute to the common good of society.

In my own way, I have always strived to be a decent human being. My parents' fault.

It might still be idealistic idiotism. But if so, it's deep-seated idealistic idiotism, able to survive the strain of reincarnation.

I sigh.

…

As of now, I'm officially an idiot.

Because, I, the person originally most averse to any kind of physical exercise, have decided that I want to become a shinobi to achieve the (still vague) goal of making this world a better place.

I just hope that I'm not completely useless by the time I become 32.

* * *

><p>I'm sorry if someone didn't catch the Death Note reference, but rest assured, it's nothing too important.<p>

Btw, go and listen to the Shingeki no Kyojin sountrack. It's awesome and I'm currently listening to it over and over and over ... you get the idea.

**To Guest reviewer Shiori:** Thank you for your review! I hope this chapter has answered your question. :)

**To the other anon reviews:** Thank you guys!

I'm a bit afraid I rambled too much in this chapter. Sorry for that. What do you think?


	4. Who Signed me up for this Rollercoaster

Here comes the third chapter!

Thanks for all the support given me thus far. We have passed the 10-reviews-mark now and I'm super happy!

I'm also excited to announce that as of now, _Joyous Children_ has a beta: welcome the amazing **NightsBlackRose13**! This chapter and a huge chunk of the coming plot are all thanks to their awesomeness. I'm so glad that you joined in and hope for more rad teamwork in the future.

Enjoy the new chap and tell me what you think, as usual :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong> Who Signed me up for this Rollercoaster Ride?

My resolve stands firm for a grand total of one whole night. Come morning, it starts to crumble like a cookie gone stale.

My desire to be a decent human being is challenged by a massive beast that's never had the chance to rear its ugly head in my first life. It goes by the name of 'I'm-too-selfish-to-risk-my-life-for-the-good-of-mankind'.

Or otherwise known as _cowardice_.

_At least I'm honest with myself._

But this thought doesn't really help me to quench the rising panic. Because suddenly I realize, _really_ realize what having been born into this world truly entails.

This is a place where _children_ are raised to become killers.

Where the lines between failure and success all blur into one huge nightmare.

Where lives are nothing more than figures on a board, easily discarded and sacrificed for the goals of someone else.

The more I agonize over this, the more I become disgusted with myself. Because I'm quickly losing this battle against plain old fear. Seems like fighting for the common good is not enough motivation for me to overcome it.

I am no Uchiha Itachi. I am no Hatake Kakashi. Hell, I'm not even a Shimura Danzou.

At one point, I start making compromises.

_I could still try to gain political leverage as a civilian by intelligent scheming. There's got to be a way to be a person with influence without being a shinobi._

Of course I know that something like this will not solve a single thing in a hidden village – or the impending Uchiha massacre for that matter, as far in the future as it is. I know it and I choose to ignore it because I'm weak.

That's where I have to admit it to myself: I'm nothing more but a sorry piece of trash.

)()()(

Two years go by within the blink of an eye. They're peaceful times, characterized mainly by the repetitive rhythm of everyday life.

I continued practicing my language as well as my motoric skills, because even though my enthusiasm for lofty goals has cooled down considerably, it's still better than succumbing to the boredom that comes with living the restricted life of a baby.

I might be a coward, yes, but I'm also uncomfortable with idleness. In fact, practicing to become independent helped a lot with getting over the realization-induced depression. It's familiar and I take comfort in it as it is something that I actually feel confident to do.

Talking became easy as soon as I'd managed the articulation part which involved the main muscle work. After getting down the various and tricky consonants of Japanese, I was up for the actual learning of the language.

I started with repeating everything okaa-chan and otou-san said to me. As soon as I had an idea of the meaning behind their words I proceeded to put them into new contexts. I relished the freedom of being allowed to make as many mistakes as I needed to do to get the things right. Grammar seeped into me almost casually and the more I listened in to the conversations between okaa-chan and otou-san, the more gratifying it became.

I wish I had learnt every foreign language like that.

Learning how to stand, to walk and to use my hands in an intelligent way was much harder, though. Unlike language, which is almost entirely based on theoretical foundations that one mainly just needs to _understand_, activating your muscles is solid work. Just because you know how your legs are supposed to function, it doesn't mean that they actually do.

Methodical training accelerates the process massively, though, and I'm pretty sure that my rapid progress is not common. As petty as it seems, seeing as I'm actually in my twenties and not a toddler, I'm proud of that.

That is, until I overhear one of okaa-chan's and otou-san's conversations this fateful evening two years later.

I have decided to ask okaa-chan to teach me kanji calligraphy as a follow-up on the hiragana and katakana writing and the reading lessons - and let me tell you, children's books in the shinobi world are _so_ not subtle in their attempts to brainwash you, it's not even funny - and stand in front of the shoji screen that leads to our living room when I hear their voices.

"You're teaching her calligraphy today?" otou-san asks. He sounds surprised and I halt in my tracks, curious about okaa-chan's answer.

"Yes, she asked me to. It's amazing, isn't it? Just last week we started reading 'Adventures of the little ninja Keiichi' and guess what she said after we finished it?"

There's a short pause in which I imagine otou-san nodding encouragingly at okaa-chan to continue.

"She said: 'This depiction of shinobi life is completely unrealistic.'"

Oops.

I don't remember saying this aloud. That's … not good. My hands begin to sweat profusely and I'm just short of barreling into the room to stop okaa-chan from telling more.

In hindsight, I should totally have done that.

"She … she said that?" otou-san asks wearily.

"Yes. And Nobuo, she's an incredibly fast learner at everything we throw at her. At first, when you suggested we test her abilities I was suspicious, but now I think you were right all along."

What. What. What!

They've been testing me? What is this? What did I get myself into? How could I have not noticed this?!

And then she says _those words_. Words that, I'm sure, will doom my entire existence.

"I really believe that Etsuko-chan is a prodigy."

Well, shit.

)()()(

The world has stopped spinning.

No.

No, no, no, no, _no_!

Anything, _anything_ but this. Please.

How could I've been so stupid? So utterly, devastatingly stupid? How could I let myself go that much?

_How could I have not seen this coming?_

My mind is sent into overdrive as I frantically dig through my memories of the last two years. I try to filter every instance in which okaa-chan or otou-san might have given me a challenge to test my abilities.

And now that I think of it, there seem to be quite a few.

The one where okaa-chan talked me into meditation as a cure for the headaches that sometimes accompanied my writing sessions, which ultimately led me to discover my chakra. This in turn resulted in games in which she made me poke at it regularly.

Or the one where otou-san decided that the hours spent on the playground were a good time to try out acrobatics because I wouldn't play with the other kids anyway.

The constant but subtle feed of words that should have been too complex to grasp for a toddler.

I also remember one moment where otou-san had tried to put a rubber kunai into my hands which I had rejected vehemently. It had happened relatively early on and I think that this has been a learning experience for them. Because of my refusal to take the toy when offered outright they had started to disguise their tests as games and challenges.

What I believed to be indulgences in the wishes of a curious child had really been them putting me to a test.

The realization falls like scales from my eyes.

My parents are sneaky, manipulative bastards.

And I ran into their trap head-on.

_Goddamnit._

They say I'm a fucking prodigy.

This is so ironic, because if anything, I rather feel like the biggest idiot that ever lived. Because, a mid-twenties woman being beaten by two people who were aiming to outsmart a baby? Haha, joke's on me.

Aside from this there's still the fact that being a prodigy in the Uchiha clan is a failsafe ticket for a ride directly into the realms of insanity.

I definitely don't want that.

The question now is, what can I do to prevent this?

First, I have to create the impression of everything being peachy as usual. It wouldn't do for them to get suspicious.

So I draw in a deep breath, count slowly to ten and push the shoji screen aside.

Calligraphy now, worries about my status as a prodigy later.

)()()(

"You did very well on your first try, Etsuko-chan!" okaa-chan says.

I plaster a cheery smile on my face, but the praise doesn't sound as sweet as it might have done before I heard of my parents' scheming.

For the two hours this session lasted, I've barely been able to hold back on my thoughts and anxieties and I feel like a paranoid nutjob, what with the constant fear that anything I say might be used against me.

I'm pathetic like that and I know it.

I need to retreat as soon as possible and make an inconspicuous beeline for the exit, but okaa-chan's voice stops me.

"Wait, Etsuko-chan, stay a bit! Your father and I have something to discuss with you."

I literally freeze on the spot.

_Oh god. They're going to come clean to me?!_

This is bad. If they confess to me now, my chances of correcting their opinion will decrease massively. Any attempt of mine to get this prodigy image off my butt will be running into a heightened risk to be revealed, because they might actually think of me trying to do that.

I'm not making the same mistake and underestimate them _again._

I panic and inch steadily closer to the shoji screen.

"Does … does it have to b-be now?" I stutter. "I-"

"Are you going somewhere, little lady?"

I spin around hastily and nearly trip over my feet. Otou-san is standing almost directly behind me like a big looming shadow. I feel so small. Not only physically, but, you know, like an animal trapped. He's sporting an amused smirk.

_I'd like to wipe that off your face, sir. May I, please?_

I don't know how much of my thought is showing on my face, but otou-san either doesn't see or doesn't care. He just bends, lifts me off my feet and carries me back to the table where okaa-chan is still sitting.

After everyone has gotten comfortable on one of the sitting pillows okaa-chan speaks again.

"We have great news for you, Etsuko-chan!" she begins.

_Oh god. Oh god. Oh my gaawwd._

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, as it will be something life changing and you'll have to adjust to it."

_Nonononono, I don't want to hear –_

"So what I'm meaning to say is-"

_Leave me alone, I'mnotgonnabeanUchihaprodigy-_

"- that you'll soon have a little sibling!"

_NOO-_

What.

Sibling? Is this a new synonym for 'prodigy'? But that wouldn't make any sense?!

I stare dumbly at okaa-chan. I'm pretty sure my mouth is hanging wide open and that I'm looking like a total moron, but I have other priorities right now.

Like, that prodigy-turned-sibling thing.

After a few seconds of no reaction on my sides, the smile on okaa-chan's face starts to falter and a worried tone creeps into her voice. "Are you alright, sweetie?"

I try to answer, I really do, but somehow my mind is just one blank slate at the moment and I can't think of anything to say.

Okaa-chan shoots a glare at otou-san that clearly says 'Are you just going to sit there and watch?' and hurriedly pulls me into a hug.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean to shock you! Look, I promise, nothing is going to change between us, we'll still do all the things we used to and you'll be able to keep your room to yourself because we're going to make the guest room the new baby's room and-"

Okaa-chan is rambling. I blink and try to refocus.

"I-I'm fine" I croak out weakly against her shoulder. She doesn't notice, though, and I have to say it again, louder. "Okaa-chan, I'm fine!"

And, I think, in a way, I really am.

After all, my nightmare has not come true –yet – and this is kind of … nice news.

I had a brother in my old life. I wonder what he's up to.

She stops rambling and looks at me with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

I smile tentatively and am relieved that it doesn't feel forced. "Yes, pretty sure."

I wonder if this new sibling will be a girl or a boy.

)()()(

I can't remember having a single dream since being reborn here and I'm surprised at how little it actually bothers me. Perhaps it is because dreams are supposed to be an indicator for a person's desires.

I don't remember desiring anything since I've fallen into this black hole of selfish fear two years ago. Grasping for momentary distractions and connecting them with the purpose inherent to continuous practice has become my new scale for the progress of time.

And look where that got me.

Tonight, though, as my head hits the pillow and the customary darkness begins to envelope my mind, I have an inkling that things are going to change.

It doesn't vanish in the morning.

I wonder if this may count as an imprint of a dream.

)()()(

In the end, I come to the conclusion that there's only so much that I can do in this prodigy situation.

Most of the damage is already done and slowing down my success from now on might not convince them that I'm normal. But maybe I can make them believe that I'm only a smart kid. 'Smart kid' is still miles away from 'prodigy' after all.

Probably.

Right?!

)()()(

My birthday on the 27th of December comes and goes. Okaa-chan asks me if I want a party for my third and I look at her with one raised eyebrow. She shrugs and organizes a small get-together with a handful of the nicer relatives anyway.

I end up mainly stuffing my face with the delicious birthday cake okaa-chan made me and impatiently waving away the few kids that came with their parents. Since they're older than me they're not too sad about not having to babysit me.

)()()(

Okaa-chan is _really_ big now and eating literally every single minute. I ask her one day if I had blown up her stomach that much, too. Otou-san takes my hand and quietly leads me out of the kitchen. As soon as he has closed the shoji screen behind him he squats down to my eye-level.

He's looking dead serious.

"Never, never again tell your mother that she looks fat."

…

_Oh._

…

I start to tell him that I didn't mean it as an insult, that I'm really only interested-

He puts a hand on my shoulder and says "Just don't."

)()()(

Winter progresses and on the 10th of February, her water breaks.

Looking back, this date should have rung a bell. Or three.

As I'm sitting in the waiting room, patiently staying put until I and otou-san are given the go-ahead, I can see that he's nervous. He doesn't pace or fidget in his seat because obviously, he's an Uchiha, but I notice the tense line in his shoulders and the rigidity of his back anyway.

The thought that, although he looks like a standard Uchiha male I have come to know him pretty well by now, comes into my mind. I can't deny the warm feeling that spreads in my stomach whenever I think of either okaa-chan or otou-san.

Suddenly I'm glad that they're both safely employed within the village walls, what with otou-san being a member of the Uchiha Police Force and okaa-chan being a retired kunoichi. I'm already long past the point of feeling nothing if something ever should happen to them.

Finally, a nurse opens the door to okaa-chan's room.

"You may come in now. Congratulations to a healthy new baby, Uchiha-san!"

Otou-san thanks her curtly and grabs my hand to practically drag me through the door.

Okaa-chan lies in the middle of pristine white hospital sheets, looking exhausted but happy. She beams at us as we enter the room and gives us an enthusiastic wave.

There, on her chest, is a little bundle.

A middle aged doctor is standing at okaa-chan's bedside but I don't think otou-san even registers her as he tightens his old on my fingers and approaches the bed.

Okaa-chan smiles. "It's a boy, Nobuo" she whispers and I can practically hear otou-san's breathing hitch. "Come here and hold him."

He lets go of my hand and I step back a bit to allow them a moment. Almost reverently, otou-san touches the little bundle that is my brandnew brother and lifts him off okaa-chan's chest. Okaa-chan's eyes find me and she raises one eyebrow.

"What are you doing there in the corner, Etsuko-chan? Come here and greet your otouto, too."

My otouto, huh. It has a nice ring to it.

So it's to the picture of us three crowded around the new baby that the doctor clears her throat.

"Congratulations from my side, too, Uchiha-san. I'm furthermore glad to say that we didn't meet any complications at the delivery. Both Kiyomi-san and the baby boy are in perfect health."

Otou-san looks up from the bundle cradled against his chest. There is a crease between his eyebrows and his voice sounds just a little weary as he asks "So there was nothing … unusual about him, sensei?"

Huh. Did he expect something unusual? And did I only imagine his eyes briefly darting to me when he said 'unusual'? Is there something I should know about?

The doctor shakes her head and smiles. "No, Uchiha-san. Your son is perfectly fine."

Otou-san almost visibly relaxes with a relieved breath. "Thank you, sensei."

I'm pretty sure that there _is_ something and I'm getting antsy. Why do I keep getting the feeling that this world is constantly throwing things at me that I'm not prepared to deal with?

"Have you thought of a name, yet?" the doctor asks.

"Yes" okaa-chan says. "This time, we already prepared one beforehand."

I can't quite stop the quiet snort that escapes my nose there.

Yeah, you'd better have. Wouldn't want to make_ that _mistake again, would we?

Her answer, said in the sweetest tone of approaching doom, goes off like a bomb in my head.

"His name is Uchiha Obito."

* * *

><p>Tadah. Any lingering doubts about her place on the timeline should be removed now, ne?<p>

Remember, reviews make me happy and a happy me is more prone to updates :P


	5. The Art of Getting Your Act Together

Hello my fabulous readers! Welcome to another chapter.

The reviews have doubled since I've posted the last chapter and wow, guys, I don't know what to say. Thank you for your support!

This time, Etsuko is doing some heavy thinking, but I hope'll you still find it to your liking. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4:<strong> The Art of Getting your Act Together

I wonder if there's a point beyond which it simply is not possible to feel anything anymore.

I don't mean the numb nothingness that comes with having no purpose or relinquishing all efforts, that gradually seeps into the mind like a parasite which is only detectable after it is fully seated and nigh impossible to remove. I also don't mean the blank waste that remains after every sentiment is killed off for the pain they caused and every remnant of them destroyed to protect oneself from repeated overexposure.

Those are all very valid variants of the absence-of-feeling-thing, of course, but my question is so simple that its answer doesn't even deserve to stand on the same ground as them.

What I ask is: Is there some limit to the amount of emotions you can pile up in your body before you keel over and explode? A lid to be screwed on the jar of bubbling feelings? Some numbered shelves on which you can put them and when the space is used up you step back and say _that's enough now, I've used up my allowance of emotions for life_ and leave?

Because, for the last few months, I sure feel like I've used up my account in the emotional bank. I'm surprised that this whole shock thing – internal freeze-over, lack of oxygen due to malfunctioning breathing organs, general stopping of brainwaves – is still available after hearing _that name_.

Uchiha Obito.

My little brother is Uchiha fucking Obito.

This has got to be some cosmic joke.

My near mental break-down seems to last an eternity but in reality it's over in only seconds and we're still here in the hospital room. Okaa-chan calls out to me and invites me to climb onto the bed to get a proper look on my otouto.

I move sluggishly and my vision is clouded over by a haze that makes the hospital room seem like it's covered with a thin film of dust. The colors are less intense, the edges more blurred and it doesn't go away when I blink. I dimly recognize the click of a door falling shut and some part of my brain registers this as the doctor leaving, but the thought vanishes as soon as it is finished.

Otou-san has put the bundle – _Obito_ – back on okaa-chan's chest. He's making small gurgling noises that don't offer any clue to what he wants.

I crawl over to okaa-chan and, after an encouraging nod of her, peel back the cloth that's hiding his face away from me.

I don't know what I'm expecting to see in this moment. Maybe the adult version of him, with the scar marring the entire right half of his face and his deathly Mangekyou filled with anger and hate. Maybe a much younger face twisted into a grimace of grief and desperation as a steady stream of tears quells from his one opened eye. Or maybe a 12-year-old that has resigned himself to his fate of dying, crushed underneath a rock and offering his rival and friend his left eye.

I don't know what I'm expecting, but when I remove the cloth and _see_, all the layers of different images soundlessly collapse into themselves.

I see the tiny face of a newborn, still crumpled and red, eyes clamped shut and sucking in breaths through a minute opening between its lips.

There is no trace of the mass-murdering villain of my memories who had his fingers in nearly every disaster that happened in the Elemental Nations, from the attack of the Kyuubi over the purge of bloodline limits in Kiri to the tragic end of the original Akatsuki in Ame and the subsequent rise of the most dangerous criminal organization this world has ever seen. Nothing that indicates the massive power that is going to be in his hands and eyes, nothing that marks him as the tool Madara will form him into.

There's nothing but the name that was given to him by parents _who love him more than anything in the world_.

My hand is frozen in the folds of the fabric that covers him and I can feel the eyes of okaa-chan and otou-san on me. I move my hand and will myself to touch him, ever so lightly, on his left cheek.

Obito's eyes fly open.

His gaze, of the same onyx as okaa-chan's and otou-san's, of the same onyx as _mine_, lands directly on me.

I swallow thickly.

He looks at me with unbridled curiosity, trust shining brilliantly from within. I can see myself being reflected in his irises, my own eyes wide open and lips slightly parted.

And with a jolt I realize that here, right in front of my nose, is the blank canvas of the future. Every choice will appear as a stroke with the brush, unique in its color and conduct, and it is not a given whether the result will be the swirling pattern of an orange mask or something else entirely.

This is not about following the plot of a story. This is about the strength to make the right choices.

(I wonder if I can be strong.)

)()()(

Hours later, after okaa-chan is finally discharged from the hospital and we've all gone home, I'm still winded.

I'm suspiciously silent and I'm pretty sure my parents notice that, but they don't comment on it for which I'm eternally grateful. I don't think I can handle their concern, their _care_, right now.

Otou-san tucks me into my bed tonight while okaa-chan is busy with … with Obito.

Oh god, it's still so hard to believe.

"You are thinking hard" otou-san states matter-of-factly. "Care to share your thoughts?"

I gulp and slowly shake my head no. I can't meet his eyes.

For some reason I feel guilty. I mean, it's not like I could tell him that I'm just worried that my baby brother might grow up to be the worst villain in the entire Elemental Nations, but the feeling of betrayal lies heavily on my chest, slowly squeezing against my lungs and making it hard to breathe.

This is such a mess. _I'm_ such a mess.

Otou-san sighs but doesn't pressure me. He gives me a light kiss on the forehead and wishes me a good night before exiting my room, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

Needless to say that I can't sleep.

I toss and turn around in my bed, making sure that my blankets are tangled into a disheveled pile between my limbs. It's so hot in the room that I feel like I'm suffocating.

_I need fresh air. Now_.

I get up and open my window wide. The air that comes in is chilly and I wrap my arms around my body. My night dress is not made for the temperatures of a February's night. But it's easier to breathe.

Damn. I miss my violin so much right now. What I would give for the chance to have it here, violin on my shoulder and bow in my hand, and play like there's no tomorrow.

I don't think the Elemental Nations even produce violins.

For a while, I stand there and do nothing but breathe. Slow inhales and exhales. I remember okaa-chan's lessons about meditation and try to center myself. It works.

As soon as I have calmed down somewhat, I find my chakra almost naturally. It flows through my body with a low, vibrating hum, pulsating reassuringly in synch with my heartbeat.

I remember the first time I found it. Before I'd overheard my parent's 'prodigy conversation', I had thought that it had been kind of an accident. It had happened during one of my first hiragana lessons, when everything had still been so new and unfamiliar. I had gotten a headache from staring and trying to copy the characters okaa-chan wrote on her paper, being distinctly unamused by my self-perceived slow progress and messy scrawl. Okaa-chan had taken my hands after a while and suggested to try something that would make the ache in my head go away.

She introduced me to meditating and indeed, I felt better within minutes. I relished the feeling of being at peace with myself, the feeling of finding my base and settling on it. I was surprised, though, when I realized that there was something waiting for me at this very same base.

I poked and prodded at this something and when it actually reacted, I broke out of my meditation and told okaa-chan. She told me that I had found my chakra.

Which, as I know now, had been her intention all along.

Now, finding and feeling my chakra during meditation has become something that comes rather easy. I have never tried something else with it, since I was aware that my reserves couldn't be too great and I didn't want to risk chakra exhaustion, but it has become a great source of reassurance.

Right now, I sorely need it.

The feeling of my chakra streaming is strong today and behind my closed eyelids, I can practically see the blue energy winding its way through my body. It reacts faster to my gentle prodding and on a whim, I decide to take it further.

I pool it in my stomach and focus on letting a trickle flow to my fingertips. It's not as easy as I imagined it to be and I lose track of my chakra halfway down my upper arm.

Immediately, my ambition to get it right is sparked.

Minutes pass and stretch into an hour, but finally, I have managed to flood all of my fingers of my right hand with chakra. They tingle with warmth and satisfaction surges through me. I want to do both hands at the same time.

I close the window and hop back on my bed, shoving aside the pile of blankets and arranging myself in a lotus seat. I close my eyes again and for the next hour or so, I'm busy pushing around my chakra into different body parts. I'm getting good at it and I let out a giddy little giggle.

It is answered by a tiny whimper.

My eyes fly open with a start. They move rapidly as I search my room for the source of the sound, but I don't see anything unusual. With bated breath, I wait for it to repeat itself. Maybe I have just imagined it?

_There._

It comes from the other side of the wall that is next to my bed. The room that used to be a guest room and is now Obito's.

I wait for a few seconds more to make sure that neither okaa-chan nor otou-san are already on their way to him, but the rest of the house stays silent. They must be really exhausted.

That makes it my duty to check on him, I guess.

I try to be noiseless as I practically sneak out of my room, tiptoe the three steps to the screen that opens to Obito's room and slip inside. He's lying in his crib – my old one, I realize – and up this close, the noises he makes are clearly audible. I walk over to him and peer through the bars.

My baby brother is awake. Somehow, he has managed to kick away his covers, which I imagine must be the reason for his whimpering – he must feel cold.

I try to readjust them for him, but I'm too short to reach into the crib from above and my arms are too chubby to squeeze them through the bars. I huff in annoyance. I don't want to wake my parents for that, they need their rest.

So I climb over the edge and into the crib.

Let me tell you that trained arms and legs with proper motoric abilities are awesome. (Which, by the way, are the reason why my crib had been replaced with a bed relatively early on. I didn't give a damn about bars. If I wanted to get out of bed, I did.)

Obito is so tiny that there's still enough space even with me in there. I mean, seeing that my body is that of a three-year-old it shouldn't be too surprising.

He's whining again and I hurriedly place the covers properly on him.

"Shhh, you're gonna wake okaa-chan and otou-san if you go on like this" I whisper to him.

He obediently lowers the volume of his voice and stares at me with big, inky eyes.

Whoa. It's like, he understood what I was saying?!

I awkwardly pat him on the head. "Good baby. Now go back to sleep."

I prepare to heave myself out of his crib again, but as soon as my weight leaves the mattress, he starts whimpering again. I swiftly drop back and crawl beside him.

"Shhh. Are you alright? Um … do you need something?"

I feel so stupid, talking to a baby, but I have no idea what to do now. I haven't dealt with babies in a long time. Actually, the last time was when my other brother was a baby. But at that time, I was nothing more than a little child myself.

Obito is looking at me again, and, ugh, do I imagine this or does he look like he's expecting something? Is it normal for a baby to be that expressive already?!

He gurgles and flails with his arms. They can't do much, as they're covered by his blankets, but I clearly get the feeling that he wants something.

Gods.

I scoot closer and wrap my arms around him, pressing his soft little body against mine. His movements subside and he lets out a cooing noise that transforms one part of my brain straight into mush.

"It's okay" I whisper back. "If you want me to stay, I'll stay."

We snuggle together and within minutes, my little otouto is fast asleep.

I'm not far behind.

)()()(

Okaa-chan finds us like that, cuddled together, in the morning.

Judging by the surprised gasp that awakens me she did not anticipate this.

Well, that makes two of us then.

I sit up groggily and rub my eyes. "Morning, 'kaa-chan" I mumble. The warm bundle that is Obito doesn't stir the slightest bit as I straighten the blankets for him and climb out of the crib.

"He kicked his covers away in the night. I put them back on but he didn't want me to leave, so I stayed" I say as soon as both of my feet are on the ground and I've turned to okaa-chan. She seems to have recovered by now and is smiling softly.

"That was a very nice thing to do, Etsuko-chan. Thank you."

Ugh, are those _tears_ in her eyes?

"Hn" I answer awkwardly. "No big deal."

She chuckles.

)()()(

Over the course of the next few days, I make two important observations:

1. Obito is a genuinely happy baby.

2. He has me hopelessly wrapped around his chubby little finger.

Conclusion: It's of personal interest for me to make sure that Obito stays happy forever.

This is important because it wreaks complete havoc with my current plans for the future.

Or, more accurately, it forces me to confront myself with the fact that I actually don't have any plans. The fact that each and every realization up until now has not actually made things clearer, but instead removed me from the things I need to do. The fact that I have been running away from reality my entire second life.

It breaks down every illusion, every wall that I have built around myself and leaves only one thing for certain: Obito's existence changes everything.

I think it's time to bring back the plans for Operation Uchiha Etsuko.

It feels a bit like a déjà vu, what with me standing in the kitchen again, helping okaa-chan dry the dishes. It seems that these days, most of my life planning takes place in the kitchen.

I find the original plans of OUE securely buried under tons of dust and cobwebs somewhere in a dark corner of my mind, but I'm surprised that I don't meet the ugly beast again. It seems way too easy, but I'm not inclined to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As I catalogue the points of my original life plan, it becomes increasingly clear to me why it was destined to fail. Because, although I had done everything as it was dictated in my textbook, none of it had any actual meaning.

_Of course_ some half-assed goal to be a decent human being and save the world would not motivate me. There was no actual link to my person, not a single drop of genuine emotion invested. Every major event in the Narutoverse seemed still so far away that I could comfortably hide in the back, convincing myself that I had all the time in the world and that in the end, everything would work out somehow.

With Obito in the game, though, this has changed fundamentally. Suddenly, I have a lot of things to consider. And they're all filled to the brim with emotions.

It is with this mindset that I begin the mammoth task of recounting every moment of Obito's life – and everything else that is influenced by his actions.

I try to remember the manga scene that takes place in his life at the earliest possible moment and come up with the day of the academy entrance ceremony. Obito had been massively late – of course – and Rin had kindly saved and handed him his entrance documents when he had finally arrived. That had also pretty much been the point at which he had fallen in love with her.

The manga didn't give any indications as to when exactly that scene had happened, though. Kakashi had been there, which would mean that they all had been four years old since Kakashi, Obito and Rin were of the same age and according to the data books, Kakashi had graduated the academy after only one year of attendance at age five. Those same data books said that Obito graduated at age nine – which meant that he had spent five years in the academy.

To be honest, I'm having a hard time believing this. There're some things that don't add up.

Kakashi enrolled in the academy at such a young age because he was a certified genius, but this doesn't explain at all why Obito and Rin would enroll so early. Even in times of near-war – since it was only one year later that it would break out – I doubt that the village would be desperate enough to push children that young into the academy as a regular occurrence.

Or at least I assume that to be the case for the Sandaime. Now that I think of it, Danzou would totally have done it. And he probably did, too. Not in the academy, but in some shady program for ROOT, somewhere in the darkest corners of Konoha.

Related to that matter is another thing: Even if the village had decided to put in all four-year-olds in existence, it wouldn't make any sense to let them sit in there for five years afterwards. I mean, the only reason they would want to get in so many youngsters would be the fast turnout of child soldiers. And no matter how you look at it: Five years is not fast. At all.

And last thing: On the panel that depicted Obito facing the crowd of his new classmates, I distinctly remember seeing the faces of Kurenai, Asuma, Gai, Genma, Hayate, Aoba and Ebisu.

Which throws kids with a wide range of different ages into one pot.

I mean, Hayate was three years younger and Aoba three years older than Kakashi! How could they all have been of the same height and _enrolling together?_

Already as a reader of the manga, I had been mildly annoyed by this inconsistency. But as a real person in a very real Narutoverse, this is a problem of a whole new magnitude. Because this proves that, even if Kishimoto himself had put it in there, the information in the manga could very well be false and thus, _unreliable_.

Jesus. As if I'd needed another problem.

I find only limited solace in the thought that at least the narration after Naruto's birth was consistent, because unfortunately, Naruto is still a long way coming.

So, this basically told me nothing but the fact that Obito was apparently so starved for attention that he fell in love with practically the first human being that was nice to him. Seeing that he didn't have a big sister in the manga and that he was an orphan in the Uchiha clan-

Everything suddenly goes still.

Oh god.

_Oh god_.

Obito had been an orphan.

Which meant that his parents – _my parents –_ had died.

I hear the sound of china shattering into a thousand pieces. With a start I realize that the cup that I'd been drying earlier has slipped out of my fingers.

Okaa-chan whips her head around. "Etsuko-chan!" she exclaims, alarm coloring her voice. Her eyes widen when she sees me and my broken cup on the floor and she hurriedly comes over.

"Are you alright, sweetie? Did you hurt yourself?"

I can only stare into her beautiful face. I see her lips moving, hear her warm voice, feel her hands on my arms-

"Etsuko? Etsuko, talk to me!"

I look into her eyes. Her beautiful, beautiful eyes.

"I'm sorry" I whisper. "I'm … I'm sorry that I broke the cup."

I cannot let her die.

* * *

><p>So, this chap has been eagerly anticipated by some (most?) of you and I hope I've done it justice.<p>

As always, drop a review and tell me what you think!


	6. Of Headaches and Muscle Hangovers

A new update!

This is the longest chapter for _Joyous Children_ up until now. A huge thanks goes to my gorgeous beta, **NightsBlackRose13**, who edited this in practically no time at all!

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And please read the Author's Note at the end, since I have an announcement to make.

Thanks for your incredible support this far!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5:<strong> Of Headaches and Muscle Hangovers

It's in the middle of the night. I'm sitting in a lotus position on my bed and trying to remember.

Faces and places flash before my inner eye, anime scenes and manga panels all mixed up in one huge jumble and flavored with bits and pieces of the innumerable fanfictions I've read. The information feels like a load of freezing cold water unceremoniously dumped over my head and it fucking _burns_ its way into my brain like a branding iron.

This is not going to work.

I need a structure if I don't want to drown in my own thoughts, something to orientate myself with.

Sherlock's mind palace would be nice right now.

In the end, I decide that I need to write everything down: my knowledge, my plans and my predictions. I'm determined not to let something like overlooked or forgotten details threaten the lives of my precious people.

I sneak into otou-san's office and grab one of his blank notebooks as well as one of the several pens in his desk drawer. Since he is an officer in the Uchiha Police Force, he needs to make quick notes all the time and always has a veritable mountain of blank notebooks and scrolls ready. I don't think he'll notice that one is missing, even considering his ninja training. He certainly has other, more important things to think of.

Before I write down a single thing, though, I need to think about precautions. Precautions that will make sure that nobody ever finds out about my … special circumstances. Because obviously, I won't be able to protect anybody if I spend the rest of my life locked in a cell in T&I or worse, in the claws of someone like Danzou. Even thinking about this possibility makes me shudder.

I'm fully aware that, with my current set of abilities, I won't be able to grant absolute safety for the documents I'm going to create. Not by a long shot. None of the standard hideouts are worth very much in a village full of shinobi and that's still not considering the fact that I'm in the middle of the talent-loaded Uchiha clan. I think the only place worse than here in regards to hiding objects would be the Hyuuga clan – who, by the way, must have abandoned the idea of privacy long ago, what with a huge bunch of relatives with _all-seeing eyes_ constantly wandering around.

However, I do have two advantages in this situation.

One, nobody expects a three-year-old to harbor secrets that could rattle the foundations of the world. Also, I've made the experience that it's rather difficult to look for something that you don't believe could exist, even if it's shoved directly into your face. Which, in turn, means that I'll be above suspicion for some years still, provided that I don't behave openly bizarre.

Two, I know more languages than just Japanese. Nothing stops me from writing everything down in English.

So, even if somebody should ever stumble over my notes they would never be able to read them without my help. I'm aware that the Konoha Cryptology Team calls some brilliant minds its own, but I seriously doubt that even the most brilliant of them would be able to decode an entirely foreign language with absolutely no similarities to Japanese from scratch.

Of course, if the village ever finds out that I know such a language I'd be facing a whole new world of probably painful problems, meaning that I still need to find a suitable hideout, but in theory, this solution is as sound as it gets under the current circumstances.

I let out an audible breath. There're so many things to think about in presumably little to no time, because as far as I know, okaa-chan and otou-san could die at any moment.

Stupid, vague manga. I could really use some more specific information here.

Complaining won't change a thing, though, so I sigh and start thinking about how to categorize my knowledge.

I foresee many, many long nights in the near future.

)()()(

Trying to write through the whole night without your _ninja_ parents noticing that you're exhausted the next morning would be quite a feat for anybody. I do it once and once only, thoroughly failing at the 'not noticing' part.

At least I manage to convince them that I was only having nightmares on this first night. Hint: Big puppy eyes while holding your baby brother tightly in your arms help a lot.

_Sorry, Obito, but it's for your own good, too_.

For the following week, I carefully plan the hours I spend awake, the ones I spend pretending to be asleep – which translates into speed-writing – and the ones I actually do sleep. It's a tight schedule, but I manage to pull it off, resulting in not only one notebook full of notes in English, but two.

Ah yes, I may or may not have sneaked back into otou-san's office and grabbed another one.

The first one starts with an outline of the timeline up until Naruto's birth and continues with short, encyclopedic articles about major events. After that comes a list with all the names I can remember, sorted by chronological appearance and adorned with short profiles. Most of them are from Konoha since I know more about this village than any other. Some even get birthdays.

I was quite dedicated to my favorite characters. Don't judge me.

The second notebook contains my goals and plans, even one or two tentative predictions of what might change due to my actions. It's not even half filled, yet, but this is a given, since life tends to be unpredictable even if you're thrown into a fictional world that supposedly already has its plot fixed.

A plot that didn't include my existence, so go figure.

As for the hideout problem: The notebooks are currently underneath my mattress.

I know that this is lame, incredibly so. _But no matter how hard I wrack my brain, I can't think of anything better._ I'm kinda heavily relying on the 'she's-only-three-she-can't-be-hiding-the-future'-thing at the moment.

Good thing to come out of this is: I have a clear goal now.

It reads 'Save Uchiha Kiyomi's and Uchiha Nobuo's lives!' and is underlined twice for emphasis. The lines dig deep into the paper, leaving imprints on several pages after.

This is great and all, but unfortunately it doesn't come without problems. Mainly, the fact that I don't know when and how they died.

I can rule out one thing, though. They won't die on a mission, since they're both employed within Konoha's walls and I thank whoever is responsible for that. It increases my chances of preventing their deaths considerably.

At the same time, that means that I can't do particularly much right now except for keeping my eyes wide open and prepare myself to the best of my abilities.

From there it's only a small step to decide that, yes, I want shinobi training. I've still not quite decided how far I want to go with the actual profession since I'm pretty sure that as soon as Obito has unlocked his top level of awesomeness I'll become redundant – and that applies for if he goes big baddie, too. Not to forget the tiny detail of the heightened risk of _getting killed_ while on active duty, which also still manages to dampen my enthusiasm.

However, I do see it as my job to ensure that my baby brother never treads that path of darkness and since there're quite a lot of years between now and then, I have to do everything that carries even the slightest potential of enabling me to protect him and my parents.

Which is the reason why I ask okaa-chan to teach me exercises in chakra control and otou-san to introduce me to Uchiha-style taijutsu.

They don't try to hide that they're thrilled about this. I'm a bit worried that their expectations might be too high because even if I have a good practice morale this is gonna be different from all the things I've done before.

Both are completely new things to me. Chakra control because, duh, _chakra_. Taijutsu because … you remember when I said I might have been the laziest person on Earth? Yeah, exactly.

Practicing things that are unfamiliar is distinctly more difficult than doing it with things you already have a general idea of. Because the crux of practicing is not to repeat certain patterns till you drop. Well, not only. What is far more important, though, is the ability to realize _why_ something is not working and to repeat the thing with the focus on _that particular fault._

Realizing the 'why' really is the key here, which of course becomes tougher the more unfamiliar the thing you try to learn is.

So, it's with a certain sense of trepidation that I follow otou-san to one of the training fields within the Uchiha compound on a crisp Sunday morning.

The air smells clean and a light breeze tugs at my clothing and hair. It's a little chilly and I'm shivering slightly in my leggings and high-collared shirt, but this is nothing compared to the winters I had experienced in my first life. Besides, I will probably get warm as soon as I start moving.

The training field is relatively small, nothing like the big expanses of the public ones depicted in the manga. A few wooden poles are rammed into the ground some feet away from where we are standing, with faded targets painted on them that are littered with marks of the numerous kunai and shuriken that have been imbedded there by generations of Uchiha.

"We're going to start with some warm-up exercises" Otou-san announces and I quickly whip my head around to look at him.

With his short black hair and plain colored outfit, consisting of dark blue jounin pants and the obligatory high-collared Uchiha shirt, otou-san doesn't stand out particularly in the crowd of Uchiha. He looks like your typical filler character and suddenly, this thought makes me _so angry_.

Otou-san is _not_ your typical filler character.

He has a loving wife, a job that he does with dedication and two kids.

He's the man who adores okaa-chan's laughter, whose dark eyes shine with silent pride whenever I accomplish something and who is nervous and worried about Obito's health because he understands what a fragile creature an infant is.

He's a human being with emotions, history and dreams.

He's _not_ a filler character. _He's not_.

The anger pushes raw energy through my body and by the end of the warm-up, I feel like an overheated steam engine ready to burst through a wall. I can't wait for the katas that otou-san's going to show me and I want to rock it so badly, I have trouble to conceal my excitement.

Otou-san picks up on it and quirks his lips into a smirk. I grin right back.

This is gonna be awesome.

)()()(

One and a half hours later I feel like a wrought-through piece of cloth. I'm so exhausted that I have to sit down in the shower, my legs as weak as boneless noodles and not much of a support.

I made a discovery today: Otou-san is secretly a slave driver.

No, seriously. _He has no mercy_.

He made me repeat every kata until it was absolutely perfect. He didn't tolerate any mistakes or, god forbid, sloppiness and when I finally had all of his instructions down, he made me go through every single one again. And again. Without any breaks.

But now, as the hot water relaxes my aching muscles, I slowly give in to a massive, self-satisfied grin.

Because I actually believe that I can do it.

I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that today was the hardest training I'd ever experience. I'm actually pretty sure that it's going to become exponentially harder the longer I do this. But at the same time I feel that I'm ready and able to go through with it.

The thought fills me with determined happiness.

)()()(

Okaa-chan is surprised that I have no difficulties with directing my chakra wherever she wants me to. I tell her that this is something that I play around with after each meditating session.

So she moves on to the leaf concentration practice. You know, the one where you put a leaf on your forehead and direct your chakra to it until it floats in the air?

Well, I don't mean to brag or something, but I have it down on my first try.

Really, to focus my attention has never been a problem for me. It's a necessity if you want to be able to practice effectively. Or, as a matter of fact, do anything over a longer period of time.

The next exercise she shows me is much more difficult, though.

"I'm going to direct my chakra to my fingertips now. Watch closely, Etsuko-chan, and try to copy."

I watch as her fingers start glowing and a sheen of chakra spreads evenly over her hand, enveloping every finger individually and coating the back of her hand as well as her palm.

_This is so cool._

"Try!" she nods at me encouragingly.

I draw in a deep breath and center myself. Calling forth my chakra, I let it flow down my right arm into my fingertips. Up to here, everything works fine, but my first try to push chakra out ends in a pitiful trickle that fizzles out of existence almost as soon as it has leaked out of my finger.

I understand. I need to put in more chakra.

My next try results in a chaotic outburst when far too much chakra erupts from my fingertips. The skin on them has violently heated up and with a startled gasp I cut off my chakra stream.

Okaa-chan takes my hand and examines it shortly. She finds nothing, though, and gives me a reassuring smile.

"Everything's fine. Just be careful from now on, we don't want to get chakra burns, do we?"

I shake my head and flash her a sheepish smile.

I try again and again, and slowly I get the hang of it.

I'm surprised myself, but controlling chakra has a lot in common with trying to get a sound out of a string with a bow. If you don't use enough pressure, the note comes out weak and unfocused, but if you press too much, it comes out strangled and scratchy. Getting the balance right is the key to the perfect sound and being able to compare applying chakra to something as familiar as this feeling is immensely helpful.

After barely an hour of practicing, I'm able to cover at least my fingers in a thick layer of chakra. It's still far from okaa-chan's even, thin covering, but hey, I'm just a beginner.

Okaa-chan beams at me and pulls me into a tight hug.

"Well done, Etsuko-chan. We'll stop today before you get too exhausted, but really, sweetie, that was very, very good."

I offer her a dopey grin.

This is exhilarating.

)()()(

Six months after Obito's birth, otou-san and okaa-chan throw a party.

Of course, since we're part of the Uchiha clan, it's not really called a party. Okaa-chan tells me that it's a ceremony to introduce Obito as the first male-born of our family to the rest of the clan.

Uh. That's … pretty archaic, to put it bluntly.

Okaa-chan dresses me in a mini kimono that is of the same dark navy color as is typical for the Uchiha wardrobe and wraps a silver obi around my waist. She does my hair, too, and puts it into an elaborate up-do that makes my usually flat straight hair look voluminous. As we near the finishing touches, she asks me to turn around.

I comply obediently and she puts a silvery object into my hand. I look down. It is an exceptionally finely crafted hair pin.

The design is of timeless elegance: Two lily blossoms facing away from each other and worked out in amazing detail. White gems are set in in place of their stamina and as I reverently trace the relief of the jewelry with my fingertips, okaa-chan starts to speak.

"This, Etsuko-chan, is a family heirloom. It means that this hair pin was handed down to me by my mother, who received it from her mother, who in turn got it from her mother and so on. It's very, very old. Traditionally, a mother gives it to her daughter when she thinks that her child has understood the importance of being a member of the Uchiha clan and is ready to become a proper member herself. Usually that happens around graduation from the academy, but although you're still very young, I believe that you're ready."

I think this is okaa-chan's way of telling me that, although today is technically Obito's day, she is proud of me all the same – and I'm touched.

I don't know where she got the idea that I've 'understood the importance of being a member of the Uchiha clan', though, since I don't feel particularly Uchiha-like. Perhaps it's not exactly about feeling Uchiha-like? I'll have to ask her later.

"Thank you, okaa-chan. I promise I'll do my best."

Okaa-chan smiles softly at me and the warm shine in her eyes seems to light up her features. She takes my hands into hers and squeezes them lightly.

"I don't doubt that, Etsuko-chan."

)()()(

The ceremony takes place at the Naka Shrine. A sudden memory rushes through my brain.

_"Go to the main hall of the Naka shrine. Beneath the 7th tatami mat from the back wall, on the right side, is our clan's secret meeting place. The true purpose of __our clan's eye techniques and its secrets are recorded there.__"_

I shake my head to get Itachi's voice out. Now is not the time.

The hall is illuminated by small torches attached to the walls in regular intervals. Seated in front of the shrine is Uchiha Takao, the current head of the clan. He is flanked by his wife Naoko on his left and his sons Fumio and Fugaku on his right.

Otou-san, okaa-chan and I are kneeling before them and behind us are round about twenty other members of the clan. We're all clad in formal kimonos of the same navy, even little Obito who is cradled in okaa-chan's arms.

I think he's taking a nap there. I envy him.

Words are leaving Takao-_sama'_smouth, something about the true Uchiha strength being passed on to the male offspring – which makes me really annoyed by the way – but I'm not exactly listening with close attention.

Instead, I'm staring at Fugaku.

Still-teenager-and-not-yet-clan-head Fugaku.

He looks … less severe than in the manga. Solemn, yes, but without the harsh lines around his eyes or the displeased tilt in his lips. Not at all like the model of a strict father but like an actual human being.

It shouldn't surprise me as much as it does.

What surprises me even more, though, is his brother Fumio. The manga didn't even mention he'd had one.

I can't tell which of them is the older brother. They look very much alike, but judging by the fact that Fugaku is the future head of clan, I'm taking an educated guess and figuratively point my finger on him. Still doesn't explain what happened to Fumio, though.

However, before I can delve deeper into this train of thought, okaa-chan gently nudges my shoulder. Startled, I realize that for some reason, there's incense burning on the shrine and the whole room seems to be bowing. I hurriedly press my forehead against the tatami mat, too.

Oops. Seems like I missed the whole ceremony despite literally having a seat in the front row.

A few minutes later, the ceremony is formally over and most of the people leave immediately. Some linger, though, and so my parents, as the hosts of this whole thing, have to stay, too.

Takao and Fumio come up to my family. Up close, Takao is downright intimidating and I start to suspect that these vibes come with the job of being the head of clan. Fumio appears virtually meek in comparison. Poor lad.

"Congratulations again, Nobuo-san" his deep voice rumbles. I don't fail to notice that he's not addressing okaa-chan and I bristle internally.

_I'm sorry to break it to you, sir, but it takes two to make a baby._

"Do ensure that Obito learns to be a valuable member of the Uchiha so that my son can count on him. Turbulent times are coming and Fumio will be in need of every able hand."

Wait, what. Fumio? Not Fugaku?

Otou-san bends his head. "Thank you, Takao-sama. I'll see to that."

Takao nods and turns to leave, but he stops again after one step. "Before I forget, Nobuo-san. Come to my house tomorrow evening. There're things I need to discuss with you."

With that, he's gone, silent Fumio in tow.

I'm incredibly confused. Could there be other changes in the timeline, except for me?

"Oi, Nobuo!" a new voice shouts.

I sigh. I'm not used to so much social interaction and although they're not even talking to me, I already feel exhaustion tugging at my brain.

A man with ash-grey hair and squinted eyes walks up to us. He seems a bit younger than otou-san and vaguely familiar, but I can't put my finger on it.

"Yashiro" otou-san greets back. I can detect the faintest trace of reluctance in his voice. Huh. Not one of his favorite people, I guess.

"So, managed to make a son on the second try, huh?" Yashiro smirks. "Guess he might become a reason for you to boast now."

My eyebrow twitches. I totally get otou-san's reluctance now. What a jerk.

Otou-san's jaw clenches slightly. "You're right, he might become that. And when that time comes, I'll be lucky to actually have two reasons to boast." With that, he reaches down to my hand and takes it in his.

_Otou-san is so cool._

Yashiro's eyebrow shoots up as he lets his eyes wander over my features. I'm sorely tempted to stick out my tongue at him.

What? Technically, I'm three.

"Whatever" he finally says with a wave of his hand. "I guess raising a good bride is something you can be reasonably proud of, too. So good luck!"

Wha-

_You. Little. Shit!_

As soon as he's left, I turn to look at otou-san and okaa-chan. I'm fucking fuming.

"He did not just say that I'd become a career bride, did he?" I drawl. "You wouldn't let that happen, right?"

They both look at me and need a bit too long to answer me.

"Etsuko-chan …" okaa-chan tentatively starts and I'm seeing red.

_You've got to be kidding me._

Before I can explode right here, right now, another Uchiha approaches us.

He probably saves the temple from the wild rampage of a furious three-year-old.

Otou-san and okaa-chan sense that, too, and the relief is almost palpable when otou-san exclaims an almost cheerful "Kagami-san!"

I'm left with a dark cloud hanging over my head as an easy conversation ensues.

This is so not over.

)()()(

Otou-san works on the next day and okaa-chan is subtly avoiding me with the pretense of being permanently busy with Obito.

My foul mood hasn't lightened up at all and after spending one hour brooding in my room, I decide that I want to hit something.

With a short "I'm out, training!" I stomp out of the house, barely hearing the "Ok, but please be home for lunch!" from okaa-chan.

I run to the training field really fast and soon as I'm there, I start violently warming up, followed by violently practicing my kata and end with violent hits on the wooden posts that are supposed to be used for accuracy practice.

I'm not picky. I take what I get.

I don't do much thinking in these hours and just give in to the urge of relieving my anger. By the time noon arrives, I'm thoroughly spent and slowly trudging home.

"Okaeri, Etsuko-chan" okaa-chan cautiously calls out when I open the front door. She pokes her head out of the kitchen and sees my sweat-drenched self. "Please wash up and join us when you're finished."

I nod and grunt something that sounds suspiciously close to a 'hn'. I'm really low on energy.

When I finally join them at the kitchen table, Obito is already busy smearing his rice porridge all over his face. Okaa-chan exasperatedly tries to stop him and wipes the food from his cheek when she hears me enter.

"I'm sorry we already started, but Obito didn't want to wait."

"Hn" I grunt.

Careful here, I just might turn into a real grumpy Uchiha.

There's a bowl of rice at my place of the table, as well as some miso soup and chicken katsu. I take my chopsticks and mumble "Itadakimasu" before I dig in.

For a long time, we're all busy with eating and apart from Obito's slurping and the occasional clatter of chopsticks hitting china, it's silent.

Lunch has never been so uncomfortable.

Close to the end, okaa-chan sighs.

"I can see that you're still upset."

Duh.

"Your father and I have decided to discuss this with you tonight, Etsuko-chan. We want to explain some things to you that are important for your future and we think that you're ready to hear them."

"I won't grow up just to be married to someone and reduced to a baby-maker" I interrupt her, anger on the rise again.

It's only seconds later that I realize that this must have sounded weird, coming out of a toddler. I'm not sure that can be explained away with the prodigy argument, either.

Uh-oh.

Okaa-chan looks shocked. She's clearly grasping for words and in this moment I think that vanishing into thin air would be a nice technique to own.

I fucked up. Badly.

Obito saves me when he starts to cry. I don't know if he can sense the tenseness in the air or if he just pooped into his diaper. Either way, I don't care, I'm just incredibly grateful.

Okaa-chan hurriedly stands up and takes him out of his baby chair.

"We … we'll discuss this tonight" she says to me. "With your father."

With a last, bewildered look at me she leaves the kitchen.

I'm such a stupid, uber-emotional moron.

)()()(

We don't discuss this _thing_ tonight.

I've barricaded myself into my room for the afternoon and am frantically searching for a reason to avoid dinner when I hear otou-san returning from work. He's later than usual.

"Okaeri, Nobuo." That's okaa-chan.

"We need to talk." That's … not the usual answer.

I wearily stick my head out of my room and watch as otou-san grabs okaa-chan's hand and drags her to his study. The shoji screen slides shut after both have disappeared inside.

Without much thinking, I tiptoe out of my room and press my ear against said screen.

"Is this about something that Takao said?" okaa-chan asks. She sounds anxious.

"Yes. Listen, Kiyomi, this is important." Otou-san draws a deep breath.

"According to Takao, the village has started preparations for a war against Suna and Iwa."

My body jerks like it's been stabbed in the back. All energy leaves me as once again, the world as I know it comes crashing down on me. I lose the feeling in my limbs and fall on my knees with a heavy thud.

Before I know it, the shoji screen is shoved aside and otou-san stands before me.

"What are you doing, Etsuko?" he asks sharply.

I can't answer. I just look up at him, my mouth hanging open, and watch as his expression morphs from surprise over anger to concern as I don't react. His lips are moving again, but his voice sounds distorted, like garbled sounds from underwater.

There are five words, clearly echoing in my skull and dragging me towards a bottomless black.

Konoha is going to war.

Konoha is going to war.

_Konoha is going to war_.

* * *

><p>Soooo, this chapter is mostly set-up and in the next, shit is gonna hit the fan!<p>

... which is the good message. As it is, I have a bad one, too: Since I'm closing in on my finals, I'll slow down the tempo of my writing considerably for the next few weeks. Don't worry, you'll still get updates, just not as insanely fast as before.

And when February is over I'll probably be able to get back to that pace.

So, that's it for now. As always, leave a review and tell me what you think! Hearing from you always brightens my day.


	7. Interlude: Nobuo

Hiya people, I'm resurfacing from amongst mountains of papers stacked on my desk to bring you a quick update!

I have news: I'm posting this story on ao3, too, so check my profile out for the link to my account.

And I have a confession to make: I'm a terrible liar. I know I promised you that shit would be hitting the fan in this chapter, but instead I've written ... _something_. I had originally intended this as an omake for breaking the 100-follower-margin (shoutout to you guys, you're fabulous! And you'd be even more so if you didn't stay silent!), but before I knew it, it had gotten out of hand.

I decided to upload this as a chapter anyway because I feel that it adds to the story, so even if it's more of a filler, I hope it deepens your understanding of the situation Etsuko's in - there's even information that she might never know herself.

So, enjoy this Interlude! (Actually, as it doesn't count as a full chapter, does it make me only half a liar?)

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude: Nobuo<strong>

Uchiha Nobuo did not have a good day.

It started early in the morning when he nearly missed his alarm going off. Kiyomi had woken him up when she had turned in her sleep, a frown marring her face while the obnoxious signal found its way into her dreams. This had never happened before. He usually turned it off a couple seconds after it activated.

But neither had something like his three-and-a-half-year-old daughter furiously telling him that she was not going to become a 'career bride'.

He hurriedly turned the alarm off and sighed internally.

There it was again. The thought that had kept him sleepless for almost the whole night.

He had known that she was smart from the moment she had called him otou-san, not only because she must've learned it with insane speed considering that only few nights before she had been more or less catatonic, but also because she had _consciously_ _chosen_ to present them her efforts when they were all neatly gathered around the dinner table, thus achieving the greatest surprise effect. He had confirmed with Kiyomi later that she hadn't tried to speak the whole day before. It might have been nothing more than a coincidence, but Nobuo had stopped believing in them long ago. Life as an active duty shinobi in one of the biggest Hidden Villages tended to do that.

He was not going to start on the issue of her calling him otou-san, when he was pretty sure that neither he nor his wife had ever presented himself to her as anything else than otou-chan. It still puzzled him deeply and he wondered if he would ever figure it out.

That, of course, had only been the beginning. In the following years, the little girl they had so thoroughly misjudged in the first six months of her life proved again and again that she was not what was considered a 'normal child' at all. It was not just about the speed with which she picked up practically everything, but also the long periods of pensiveness she could immerse herself in, the selective maturity she showed and the utter lack of interest in any social contact with other children her age.

Also, all the things she did when she thought that nobody was looking.

His daughter had the working morale and the analytical insight of an ambitious chuunin. At age three.

No, he corrected himself. She'd actually had those skills even before she was three.

He wondered how much of this was actually related to the … unusual circumstances of her birth. Circumstances he'd never really forgotten about but conveniently buried in some dimly lit corner of his mind and left alone because they suggested things that he hadn't wanted to deal with.

Obito's birth had brought them back to the forefront of his mind, though, and full force at that.

He vividly remembered Etsuko's diagnosis seven weeks into the pregnancy. It was the first time that the doctor had been able to pick up traces of brain activity and what they had discovered had been … puzzling to say the least.

"_Uchiha-san, your child presents a very interesting case. Although it's still in an early stage, the fetus is already showing traces of brain activity, which usually doesn't happen until three weeks later. Besides, it looks like the brain is rapidly growing and advancing in a pace much faster than the other organs. It's nothing dangerous, yet, but we'd like to monitor this development very closely."_

Her brain had stopped growing when it had gained the size baby brains usually had which was a huge relief, but instead of stagnating in progress, it developed further, building synapses and connections that approached the complexity of a teenage-brain.

Kiyomi had been eating the whole day at that point.

On the day she was born he had been afraid of what was going to come out of his wife's womb. He wasn't proud of that and he had never admitted it to anyone, not even to Kiyomi, but it was the truth. He'd been terrified of the idea that something monstrous would come crawling out.

Instead, Etsuko had looked like any other tiny child, coming into the world with a giggle and what he could have sworn looked like excitement shining in her onyx eyes.

For a moment she had lulled them into believing that everything was fine.

Only to plunge them straight through a six-month-period of emotional desolation by becoming catatonic five minutes later.

He couldn't describe the relief he'd felt when the doctor had told him that there was nothing unusual about Obito. He didn't think he would've been able to bear another strain like that.

He was also relieved that there had never been another issue of that magnitude with her again. It seemed almost like … her _spirit_, for lack of a better word, had finally caught up to her brain development and now that both of them were in synch, she was exceedingly mature in everything concerning a certain kind of intelligence that was made up mostly but not only of the skill to learn efficiently.

What stood in a crass contrast to that, though, was the fact that she was severely lacking in all things concerning stealth. It was hilarious how she thought that she was secretive in her obsessive perfectionism to get everything right or how she believed that he hadn't noticed her taking two of his notebooks. While the first issue by itself was something he was truly proud of, the rest was almost worrying.

It was strange how advanced she could be in some areas but at the same time so painfully insufficient in the one that was essential for the survival of every shinobi, almost like she had already lived a life in which this facet didn't matter at all.

Nobuo shook his head with a short exhale. What a ridiculous idea.

She was still only three, it was natural that she lacked in certain areas. In fact, it made everything else even more impressive.

He swore under his breath when he looked at the display of the alarm clock and realized that he would have to rush through his preparations if he didn't want to arrive late at work. Usually, Kiyomi would be up with him, preparing his breakfast and bento box, but the ceremony yesterday had gone longer than they had anticipated and Obito had slept through it, only to be awake afterwards and demand his mother's attention for another couple hours after they had finally returned home. She must have been exhausted to the bones.

Not to mention the shock Etsuko had given them with her … strange reaction to Yashiro's taunting.

He just barely made it on time into the Uchiha Police Force administrative building, but even while he settled into his office and began the routine paper work for some petty civilian squabble from the other night, he could not stop thinking about his daughter.

Her outburst had been something on a wholly new level.

He was fairly sure that things like marriage hadn't been discussed with her, yet, and that the term 'career bride' never even mentioned. Ever.

So, logically speaking, a three-year-old shouldn't have understood what Yashiro was even talking about, much less deduced the implications.

Implications that she apparently already had an opinion on. A passionate one at that.

_How was this possible?_

"Nobuo!"

If he had been anything less than an Uchiha, he would have jolted from the surprise. As it was, he simply raised his head, his face impassive, and looked at the speaker. It was his partner Tomomi.

"We got a case in" he said. He wore a grim expression, deep lines engraved around his mouth and on his forehead. "There was a murder over at the civilian quarters. Two victims, a married couple. We better hurry up and get there fast."

Nobuo rose abruptly from his chair. "Did ANBU apprehend a suspect already?" he asked while they moved out of the building into the open street.

Tomomi shook his head. "No. It looks like whoever did this got away before ANBU arrived."

Nobuo sighed quietly. Murders were never a pretty sight.

)()()(

Nobuo was back at his desk in his office and massaging his temples, his eyes closed.

The investigation had lasted the whole afternoon and it turned out that the dead couple had left a six-year-old daughter behind who had been staying with a friend at the time of the murder. There were no relatives to take her in since her parents had moved here from another village. She would be sent to an orphanage as soon as it was reasonable to say that she was not targeted by the murderer.

The girl, Funahara Yuki, had reminded him of Etsuko.

They had similar shoulder length black hair and though the girl's eyes had been a shade lighter than the Uchiha midnight, they'd had the same blank look in them as Etsuko in her first six months.

He had seen this look quite a few times before, both while he still had been on field duty and as an officer, but only finding it on the face of a child had managed to make him realize what Etsuko must have felt back then.

Horror and shock.

Why, why had his daughter been so terrified just minutes after her birth? Why, if she had been giggling just seconds before?

Would she remember if he asked her?

"What has you thinking so hard?" Tomomi's voice carried over.

Nobuo opened his eyes to see his partner standing in front of his desk with two mugs full of steaming tea in his hands. He put one of them on the desk and Nobuo gratefully accepted it.

"I was thinking about the Funahara girl. Another child in Konoha's orphanage."

"Ah" Tomomi nodded. "It got you thinking about your children, didn't it?"

He nodded and began, hesitantly. "I … I know Etsuko and Obito would never go to an orphanage if something should happen to Kiyomi or me and that the clan will take care of them, but I can't help but feel that … that ..."

"You don't want to leave them alone."

Nobuo exhaled. "Etsuko is so mature but at the same time she's so vulnerable and so dependent. She gets attached so easily, it's … I guess it's normal for a child her age, but I believe that it will seriously damage her if she lost someone close. And Obito … she would think that it was her duty to look after him on her own. I mean, it's almost scary how protective of him she is already now." He let out a short laugh. "Forgive me, I'm not usually prone to rambling."

Tomomi sat down on the chair before his desk. "This case got you shaken up, didn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

For a moment, Tomomi didn't say anything. When he finally spoke again, his voice seemed to come from far away.

"There's nothing that you can do about it. You're a father, so you'll always worry. It's only natural. But don't forget what your job as a father is. You have to teach your children how to survive, give them the means to build up their own strengths and believe in them. Leave the doting worry to your wife, she'll do a better job with that anyway. And when the time comes when you and she aren't around anymore, your children will still have all the things you taught them and will shape their lives according to them. That's really all you can do."

Tomomi stood up. "You should go home now. I can finish up the report on my own. Go home and get some rest, you look like you need it."

He nodded at Nobuo and left.

The younger man had a small, grateful smile playing on his lips.

"Thank you, Tomomi-senpai."

)()()(

The peace he felt from his conversation with Tomomi was only temporary. As soon as he entered the study of Uchiha Takao, he caught up to the tense air that raised the hairs at his nape.

"Takao-sama" he said as he kneeled down and pressed his forehead on the tatami mat.

"Nobuo-san" the clan head greeted him. "Sit up."

He did as he was told and watched as the elder finished signing some paper work until his dark eyes were trained on him again.

"Are you informed about the current situation at the borders?" he asked without preamble.

"Are you referring to the disturbances at the border of Rain?" Nobuo asked back.

Takao nodded. "The Hokage told the Greater Council today that he believes that these are caused by advancing forces from Iwa. ANBU reports support this claim and indicate that additionally to that, Suna is also trying to expand their territory. They already seem to have met on the other side of Rain. If this continues, Konoha will be forced to act. It cannot afford Rain to fall and the borders of either Earth or Wind to approach Fire Country."

Nobuo sat up straight. "What does this mean precisely?"

Takao looked directly into his eyes.

"It means that Konoha has to be prepared for a war against Iwa and Suna. It means that as Konoha's strongest asset, Uchiha will be fighting at the front lines again."

)()()(

"Okaeri, Nobuo." Kiyomi greeted him when he entered his home.

He didn't waste his breath on an appropriate answer.

"We need to talk." He grabbed her hand and almost dragged her into his study. She followed him with a surprised and worried look on her face but waited for him to slide the shoji screen shut before she spoke.

"Is this about something that Takao said?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes. Listen, Kiyomi, this is important." He drew a deep breath.

"According to Takao, the village has started preparations for a war against Suna and Iwa."

His wife's eyes widened in shock at that, but before she could answer to this piece of news, a loud thud sounded from outside.

Nobuo was at the screen in two quick strides and practically yanked it open.

There, on her knees and looking up at him with big, _terrified_ eyes, was his daughter.

He inhaled sharply as images of the Funahara girl started to layer themselves over Etsuko's face. The same eyes again, filled with _horror and shock_.

"What are you doing, Etsuko?" he asked, his voice much sharper than he had intended it to come out. He heard the shuffling of cloth as Kiyomi moved behind him, but his eyes never left Etsuko.

Who was breaking down right on front of him.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as her small body began to shake uncontrollably, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something but couldn't bring it out.

Her eyes rolled back and she fell forward.

Nobuo caught her in his arms.

"Calm down, Etsuko. Breathe." He repeated the words again and again, cradling her against his chest and rocking her back and forth.

It didn't work.

He gritted his teeth and called out to Kiyomi.

"She's hyperventilating and I can't get her to calm down. Quick, get a paper bag and bring it to her room."

Kiyomi nodded frantically and ran into the kitchen.

He picked up the shaking body of his daughter and brought her to her room. Setting her down on her bed, he didn't leave her side until Kiyomi came in and put a brown paper bag over her mouth.

Nobuo stood up to make place for her and positioned himself at the foot of Etsuko's bed, closely monitoring his wife. He let out a breath when, finally, his little girl started to calm down.

Well. This day had been complete and utter shit from the moment he had awoken this morning.

He had the glum feeling that worse days were coming still.

* * *

><p>So, that's it. I'm going back to burying my head in the preparations of my finals. I'm sorry to say that I can't estimate when I'll be able to present the next chapter, but please bear with me.<p>

What I _can_ say, however, is that a review never fails to brighten my day. So leave one and it might be rewarded! :)


	8. The Calm Before the Storm

Whohoo, the new chapter is finally up! And good news: My final exam is on friday, which means that I'll be able to return to the updating pace from before soon!

Thank you for your responses to the last chapter! I was so relieved to read that you actually liked the change in POV, and I'll do this more often now if the need arises. Aaaaaand we passed the 50-reviews-mark, so I got something for you: I made a tumblr blog just for this story! You can either go to my profile and get a direct link there or type in whatxcolor. tumblr. com without the blanks. There's an askbox and I'll answer every single incoming ask, so don't be shy!

Thanks to my beta **NightsBlackRose13** again for proofreading!

Enough with the rambling now, on to the chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the lyrics that will be cited in the following. You're invited to guess which song it is and I'll tell you at the end of the chapter.

* * *

><p>Previously:<p>

_"What are you doing, Etsuko?" he asks sharply._

_I can't answer. I just look up at him, my mouth hanging open, and watch as his expression morphs from surprise over anger to concern as I don't react. His lips are moving again, but his voice sounds distorted, like garbled sounds from underwater._

_There are five words, clearly echoing in my skull and dragging me towards a bottomless black._

_Konoha is going to war._

_Konoha is going to war._

Konoha is going to war.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6:<strong> The Calm Before The Storm

This is wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

It can't be.

The Third Shinobi War is not supposed to happen until Obito turns 12, 13i-sh. Maybe a bit before, but not too much.

How is it possible for a war to start 12 years early?

Is it me? Did my existence change something fundamental? But how? Barely anybody outside of the clan even knows about me!

My chest feels like it's constricting into nothing more than a gnarled knot. I'm having trouble breathing. My hands and legs, fuck, my whole body is shaking so badly. Black spots appear in my vision as everything starts to spin into a mad spiral.

Somewhere, in a part of my brain that has not yet shut down, I'm dimly aware that I'm hyperventilating.

I don't recall what happens next, but the moment I calm down somewhat, I find myself on my bed, a paper bag over my mouth and okaa-chan anxiously stroking my hair. My rapid breathing seems to have slowed down and I feel like resurfacing from deep underwater.

"Etsuko" Otou-san's voice floats to my ears. I lift my head and find him standing at the foot of my bed. He has a peculiar expression on his face that I can't read.

Shit. That doesn't bode well.

"Yes?" I croak meekly.

"You just had a minor panic attack" he says slowly, measuring my every reaction through half-lidded eyes.

_Minor?!_ If that was a minor panic attack I don't ever want to experience a major one.

"Do you remember why you panicked?"

Of course I do. As if I could forget that.

My voice is very, very small when I answer. "You … you said that Konoha is going to war."

Okaa-chan's hand in my hair stills. Belatedly, I realize that I might be in trouble for eavesdropping on their conversation and I hurriedly add a lukewarm "I'm sorry I listened in." It sounds unconvincing even to my own ears.

For a while, nobody says anything. The silence is suffocating.

Right now, I'd give a fortune to know what okaa-chan and otou-san are thinking. Not that I own a fortune, mind you. It's just that I can practically hear their gears grinding.

Otou-san comes to a decision. He looks at okaa-chan.

"Kiyomi, perhaps you should take a look at Obito. I think I heard him right now."

Whoa. If that's not a harsh dismissal I don't know if I ever heard one. Okaa-chan goes rigid and for a moment, I'm convinced that she's going to refuse.

Instead, she gently untangles her hand from my hair and stands up.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Nobuo" she says. Her voice sounds strained and she's visibly struggling to stay calm.

"You'll have to trust me on this" otou-san answers.

Okaa-chan abruptly moves and leaves the room without another word.

What the heck is going on? Is this still about me freaking out over the war? I'm completely out of the loop here and I hate it. It leaves me out of control, though I suspect I never had much of that in the first place.

Otou-san has moved to the window and is standing with his back to me. He doesn't say anything. The silence is driving me insane and I can't stand it anymore.

"What is it that you want to discuss with me?" I blurt out. I blame my childish voice for making the question sound like a whiny squeal. Definitely not my nervousness, nope.

Otou-san turns around and scrutinizes me with a calculating gaze. His face is a perfect mask when he opens his mouth.

"Tell me, Etsuko. What does war mean to you?"

What.

I look at him blankly.

That … was not what I expected.

It takes another moment before it finally clicks in my head.

_Oh._

I get it. This is a trap. It's about this prodigy thing again, isn't it?

My first impulse is to try and fake innocence, but one look into the hard, _knowing_ stare that otou-san levels at me and I know that it's not going to work.

He won't believe my cute-toddler-act anymore. Maybe he never has.

Well, damn. I guess at this point, I'm already fighting a lost battle on this issue, what with all the boners that I've pulled time and time again. Might as well go all the way now and try to squeeze some good out of it. So, before I can start second-guessing myself, I decide to launch a counter attack. Head-on.

Questioning my sanity becomes moot at this point, I guess.

Here we go.

"War means countless deaths" I begin with a shaky voice. "It means that because of political games played by a selected few at the heads of the Hidden Villages, hundreds of shinobi will be sent out to fight and die, thousands of civilians will be caught in the crossfire and innumerable people will be left traumatized and homeless. War means families torn apart, lovers separated, children orphaned."

I stop to take a deep breath. I don't dare to look otou-san in the eye because I'm not sure I'll be able to continue this if I do.

"War means that Konoha is going to send out its strongest fighters. It means that the Uchiha, too, will fight. And that scares me. It scares me because there's a very real chance that you'll be sent out and because there's a very real possibility of you dying. I'm scared when I think of the chance that Obito and I will be left alone. I don't know if I can protect him from the fallout of the war, if I can provide him with the family he deserves to have, and I'm afraid of what's going to happen if I can't prevent him from becoming –"

I abruptly shut my mouth.

Oh god. That was way too close.

Heavy breathing fills the ensuing silence and it's only after a few seconds of staring into my hands in my lap that I realize that it's me who's breathing so hard.

I need to get my emotions in check. Because, hell, I haven't even come to the part that really, really freaks me out.

The part where I have to wrap my head around the fact that, somewhere along the line, I apparently have grievously miscalculated the outbreak of the Third Shinobi War.

Which is a disaster.

I mean, if I'm able to overlook the starting point of a goddamn war, what good is my foresight for?

Unfortunately, that's also the part that I absolutely _cannot _tell otou-san, along with the Obito-might-go-big-bad-villain-because-he's-ostracized-even-in-his-own-clan-and-then-loses-his-most-important-person-thing that I managed to almost spill.

"Prevent him from becoming what?"

I practically jump when otou-san's voice pulls me out of my silence and I jerk up my head to look into his face.

I shouldn't have done that.

Otou-san's eyes are no longer hard and black. Instead, I meet the glare of two fully matured Sharingan. The six tomoe are spinning madly, creating two nearly solid rings of black against the bleeding red of his irises and I feel everything else eclipse into darkness – my bed, the window, the room – until nothing else but his eyes remain.

_Prevent him from becoming what?_

Otou-san's voice reverberates in the blackness, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. He sounds flat, inflectionless, and it sends uncomfortable chills down my spine.

I try with all my might to rip my gaze away from his Sharingan. It's difficult, so infinitely difficult and before I even get a chance of succeeding, otou-san's voice resounds again, deep and more forceful than before.

_Prevent him from becoming what?_

It knocks the wind out of my lungs and I can practically feel the vibrations muddling up any thought process in my mind. Funny. I've never entertained the idea that sound could produce bodily pressure, but here it is, pushing hard into my chest and making it even harder for me to breathe.

_Try to get a grip on yourself._

I don't know if this is a thought of mine or if it's coming from otou-san, but either way, it manages to pull me back a bit.

The answer. I have to give him an answer as long as I still have somewhat all of my mental faculties together. I can't guarantee that I won't say anything stupid when I've reached the stage of ultimate confusion.

I wheeze at the attempt to get a sound out of my mouth.

As if that was a signal, the pressure lessons considerably. For a few heartbeats, there's nothing but silence, saturated with an air of expectation so potent that it's nearly solid.

My voice is barely a whisper.

"I have to prevent him from becoming broken."

It echoes through the darkness, leaving a void in its wake that screams to be filled.

But otou-san doesn't answer.

Instead, the Sharingan's glare softens and the tenseness in the air is released. A heavy drowsiness creeps into my bones as exhaustion and something else take over, and I give in to my desire to close my eyes. Just before I slip into blissful oblivion, I hear otou-san's voice again. This time, it's nothing but a whisper itself.

_Just who are you, Uchiha Etsuko?_

)()()(

"_You don't understand, Kiyomi! She knows something! I don't know if it is intuition or some kind of psychic ability, but she _knows _something. And she's spending an enormous effort on hiding it."_

"_So you thought it was a good idea to put a genjutsu on her?!"_

"_It was a light one, and I thought it was worth the knowle–"_

"_I don't care if you thought it was worth the knowledge! What I care about is that, apparently, you thought it was alright to use an interrogation jutsu normally employed by the Police Force to question criminals on your_ own three-year-old daughter_!"_

"_On civilian criminals! It doesn't have any long-term effects on her system and she was never in any danger –"_

"_I don't care! This is a matter of principle!"_

"_You're overreacting, Kiyomi! We're shinobi, and as such, we can't afford to give preferential treatment to some principle when there's a chance that it might prevent us from seeing important information."_

"_Pray, what potentially important information did you see that warranted putting a genjutsu on a toddler?"_

"_But that's exactly the thing, Kiyomi. I couldn't see anything."_

"_What?"_

"_I tried, but I couldn't see anything. Because she resisted. Etsuko successfully resisted my genjutsu."_

)()()(

I wake up to the afternoon sun shining brightly into my room. I blink groggily.

That's strange. Usually, I'm up rather early in the morning.

I sit up with a loud yawn. My back pops satisfactorily as I stretch my limbs and I feel well rested and light, my mood so good that it can almost be called _chipper_.

I let out a small giggle. _Behold the chipper Uchiha!_

I get off my bed with a hop, a song that I remember from my past life on my lips. The English words feel foreign on my tongue.

_He said "Son, have you seen the world?  
>Well, what would you say if I said that you could?<br>Just carry this gun and you'll even get paid."  
>I said "That sounds pretty good."<em>

The house is so quiet. Are okaa-chan, otou-san and Obito out?

_Black leather boots,  
>spit-shined so bright.<br>They cut off my hair, but it looked alright.  
>We marched and we sang,<br>we all became friends,  
>As we learned how to fight.<em>

I scurry down the hall and peek into the rooms to try and find the rest of my family. But I have no luck. Obito's room is empty, just as otou-san's and okaa-chan's. There's no one in the kitchen, the dining room or otou-san's study, either. Neither are there any notes left for me.

How strange.

_A hero of war!_

_Yeah that's what I'll be_

_and when I come home_

_they'll be damn proud of me._

_I'll carry this flag_

_to the grave if I must_

_because it's a flag that I love_

_and a flag that I trust._

I snicker at the last few lines. Pity that the Elemental Nations don't even have flags. Really, there's no fun in marching into a war without something to wave around that has all the pride of a nation summed up on a piece of cloth.

But maybe shinobi don't put their pride into something as fickle as nations. The village or the clan always comes before that, I guess. And of course a village can't have its own flag, since it officially belongs to the respective nation.

My musings have taken me back to my room and I prepare myself to sing the last few lines of the song with all the passion I can muster. Sure, my voice still needs a lot of practice since it's all wobbly and squeaky, but I'll have to start somewhere. And since nobody's here at the moment, I won't embarrass myself.

_A hero of war!_

_Is that what they see?_

_Just medals and scars_

_so damn proud of me._

_And I brought home that flag_

_now it gathers dust_

_but it's a flag that I love_

_and it's the only thing I trust._

It's funny that I should remember a song that was released in the middle of the War on Terror right now. Back then, I had still been in high school and we decided to use this in a musical project. I recall thinking a lot about it, its meaning and the reason why there was war in the world in the first place. I also recall not coming to a real conclusion other than the almost desperate wish for another solution, something that didn't involve all the trauma and suffering that came along with it.

So why am I remembering it, right here, right now?

In this moment, I hear the front door opening and okaa-chan entering our home.

Immediately, my more somber thoughts are forgotten and I dart out of the room into the direction of okaa-chan, ready to fling myself at her and give her a hug. The song continues to play in my head in an infinite loop, though, providing a soundtrack that's a little off to be fitting, but trying to get a catchy tune out of my ear is nigh impossible, so there's nothing I can do.

_She walked through bullets and haze_

"Okaa-chan, okaeri!" I holler.

All I receive is a startled look.

_I asked her to stop _

Um. Do I have something on my face?

She has a basket with groceries in her right hand and Obito in this awful device in front of her chest. So, she's been to the market. I'm a bit peeved that she didn't ask me if I wanted to come along.

"Etsuko-chan! You're … you're up already?" she asks cautiously.

_I begged her to stay. _

The song in my head increases in volume.

_Duh, obviously._ Seriously, what's up with her?

I think my face shows my confusion because okaa-chan comes over to me after putting down the basket at the genkan and squats down so that she can talk to me on eye-level. She's so close, there's barely enough space for Obito between us and he's watching the scene with curious big eyes. Okaa-chan puts her hands on my shoulders and has a worried look on her face.

_But she pressed on_

"How are you feeling, sweetie? Headache? Nausea? Anything?"

Now I'm becoming scared. I shrug her hands off and eye her warily.

"I'm fine. I actually felt really good until half a minute ago." I take a step back. My gut tells me that something's not right. "Why are you asking? You're scaring me."

She draws her eyebrows together. "So, you don't remember?"

OK, scratch being scared. I'm going into full-blown panic mode.

_So I lifted my gun_

"D-did I do so-something?" I squeak.

I'm frantically turning over the figurative drawers of my memory cabinet and with horror, I realize that the one that includes the things that should be saved under the file 'yesterday' is stuck. I pull and tear at it, desperately trying to get it open.

_And I fired away._

It yields and the memories come flooding back, knocking the strength out of my legs and causing a short circuit on my sensory organs.

I remember everything.

The gloom from the morning – the rage at lunch – the panic of the afternoon – the shock of the evening.

Okaa-chan's face – my panic attack – _thewarthewarthewar _– otou-san's Sharingan.

My thoughts come to a screeching halt there.

_What the fuck did he do?_

One moment I had been sitting on my bed, trying to cope with the fact that the Third Shinobi War was coming way too soon, the next everything had vanished except for those big scary Sharingan –

My jaw drops as realization hits me square in the face.

Otou-san genjutsued me.

_He fucking genjutsued me._

"Etsuko?"

My eyes refocus on okaa-chan's face. My mouth has gone dry with my realization and my voice sounds hoarse when I speak.

"I remember."

Okaa-chan's gaze softens. "Are you alright?"

Well, that's the one-million-dollar-question here, isn't it?

I wonder if I should be freaked out. I mean, right now, I'm more pissed than freaked out and even this state is fading into something more like annoyance. I wonder if that's normal.

Being put under a genjutsu was … not as terrifying as I thought, after all. In fact, it granted me some hours of solid and sorely needed sleep.

And the thing is, I can kinda understand why he did it.

I mean, I had been entirely out of character, completely abandoning my toddler-cover and sprouting some heavy things on war, and generally being way out of line. One could say that otou-san going gung-ho with a genjutsu was a bit of an overboard reaction, but I can't really blame him, what with all the pressure of the war and the Uchiha-inherent way of handling things as dramatically as possible.

Besides, looking back, even I have to admit that the idea of a frontal attack had not been very thought through, but I had been acting out of the defensive.

Actually, I'm surprised that it's not currently all blowing up in my face.

Judging by okaa-chan's behavior, otou-san has either not told her about our interesting discussion – which I don't believe, because he tells her everything – or for some miraculous reason, she's accepted this.

I need to know what otou-san thinks. There's so much we need to discuss.

I inhale deeply and look steadily into okaa-chan's eyes.

"I'm ok. I need to talk to otou-san, though. When will he come home?"

Okaa-chan lets out a breath and stands up from her crouch. "He's still at work, but he'll be home in a couple hours." She pauses and bites her lower lip. It occurs to me that okaa-chan has a rather expressive face, which is unusual for an Uchiha. But Obito's expressiveness had to come from somewhere, I guess.

"Ok, I'll be in my room then. Call me if you need me."

I turn on my heel and am about to march straight back into my room when I hear her calling me back.

"Etsuko-chan!"

I stop and crane my neck to look at her.

"If you need to talk … you know you can always come to me, don't you?"

And for a moment I consider doing exactly that. I look at her, standing in the hallway with Obito in her arms and think _this is my mother, my beautiful, sweet, gentle mother in this troubled world_.

She doesn't deserve the shit that I carry around with me.

So I give her a soft smile.

"I know, 'kaa-chan. Thank you."

)()()(

Now that I have a calmed down I have to tackle this war issue.

I mean, I'm aware that I won't be able to stop this. But I have to make sure that this isn't something completely random. I need reference points to determine the meaning of all the things that are going to happen to me and my family in the near future.

It gets kinda important when their lives are on the line.

I make a beeline for the notebooks hidden under my mattress and pull out the first one with the list of all the characters I could think of. I leaf through them, trying to think of anything associated with these names that can offer me some information on the war.

Most of the Uchiha known to me are not yet born and therefore not much of a help. Generation Obito/Kakashi kids didn't really get their early childhoods fleshed out, so I don't know if there was anything else beside the Third Shinobi War.

That effectively leaves me with the older generation shinobi, namely the future parents of the Konoha 12 and a few selected others like the Sandaime Hokage, his buddies, Hatake Sakumo and the Sannin.

_Uh-oh_. _The Sannin._

I get the bad feeling that I overlooked something integral in their biographies the first time around. I quickly turn a few pages forward, leaving the section of Konoha nin.

_There_.

The bad feeling turns into a fist of steel-hard rock buried deep into my guts.

Three names. It doesn't take more than that to leave me winded once again.

Uzumaki Nagato.

Konan.

Yahiko.

There're no ages besides their names because I forgot, but I don't need them anyways, since I'm pretty sure that I already found what I'm looking for.

I don't know how I've managed to ignore the significance of the information their life stories provide in combination with those of the Sannin's. It's probably related to my fixation on Obito's life and my distorted perception of the time intervals in the Narutoverse, because somehow, I'd always imagined the gap between the Shinobi Wars to be greater than just over a decade.

So, yeah, I was right in suspecting that the coming war couldn't be the Third Shinobi War. What I had failed to take into account, however, was that before the _Third_, there had to have been a _Second_.

_The upcoming war is the one that will go down in history books as the Second Shinobi War._

)()()(

When otou-san finally comes home, I'm awaiting him on our porch.

I've decided that I can't wait until after dinner for the chance to speak to him. I want to tell him everything he wants to know. If it's going to save his and okaa-chan's lives and prevent Obito from becoming an orphan, I'm willing to pay that price.

I can tell that he's surprised to see me, judging by the way the muscles in his shoulders tense up with a minuscule movement, but his face remains blank.

"Etsuko" he greets me.

"Otou-san. We need to talk."

Otou-san nods as if he's been anticipating this and without another word, we go straight to his study.

"So, about yesterday" I begin as soon as we're both settled on a zabuton, otou-san behind his desk and me in front of it. He's even activated the privacy seals, proving to me that he's taking this really serious. Which is a good thing, I guess.

Then why am I getting nervous all of a sudden?

I swallow thickly, but before I can chicken out, I open my mouth again. "I totally understand-"

"I shouldn't have done that" otou-san says at the same time.

It takes a moment for the words to register in my mind.

"What." Oh yeah. That was quick-witted me again.

Otou-san sighs and rakes a hand through his short hair. He looks exhausted, with big bags under his eyes and an ashen hue to his pale skin. And I don't know if I'm imagining it, but I think I spot some silver glinting in his hair.

He must've been under a lot of stress lately, and suddenly I feel like an asshole for heaping all of my shit on his shoulders.

"I was taken completely by surprise yesterday and I guess I jumped right into the role of a police officer before thinking it through. Your mother and I had a … discussion about this the same night and although I didn't want to admit it then, I can see now that what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have put you under a genjutsu, Etsuko. That was the right thing for a shinobi to do, but not for a parent. I should have trusted you to tell me your thoughts of your own free will, should have trusted you to know what was too important not to tell, but instead I tried to force you. I utterly failed at being a father there. I … I hope you can forgive me this once."

Wow.

Just, wow. I totally didn't expect that. I mean, I've come to terms with otou-san's reaction and actually think that in a ninja-ish paranoid way of thinking, it was kinda justified in that situation. Hearing him apologize to me makes my respect for him soar into immeasurable heights.

"It's ok" I mumble. "I understand why you did it, so I'm alright."

Otou-san lets a small relieved smile on his lips.

"You're so mature, Etsuko" he says quietly. "Smart and incredibly hard-working, too, and although I don't understand how, you've always been. I'd like it if someday, you'd decide to tell me your secret, but I want you to know that I'll never put pressure on you to reveal anything that you don't want to."

_He's not just referring to my skills_, I realize. He's making me the offer to treat me as a fully-fledged intellectual being, putting his trust in me and asking for the same in return. Which is only fair.

It feels incredibly liberating and it takes an enormous burden off my shoulders.

"Thank you." My voice is all shaky. "Thank you for trusting me."

Otou-san stands up from his zabuton. "We should go for dinner now. Your mother's cooking is too good to let it go to waste."

I hesitate to follow him. "Can I have a moment to myself?"

"Of course. Join us when you're ready."

My eyes follow him as he walks over to the shoji screen. Before he exits the study, though, he turns back one more time.

"By the way, I don't ever intend to marry you off, Etsuko. You're free to choose the path of your life."

I let out a suppressed sob.

_I won't betray your trust, otou-san_.

)()()(

I'm still slightly dazed by the time I join my family at the dinner table, but at least my tears are not threatening to spill out at any minute.

Okaa-chan gives me a soft smile as I flop down on my seat and hands me a bowl of rice. Obito is happily flailing with his arms and making little cooing noises. I lean over to press a kiss on his soft cheek and receive a bright toothless smile in return.

My precious little otouto. Obito has become the sun of my solar system and I'll be damned if his happiness ever gets clouded.

At the end of dinner, otou-san clears his throat to make an announcement.

"I wanted to tell you this yesterday already as it's part of the conversation that I had with Takao."

I tense and see okaa-chan doing the same from the corner of my eye.

"The war is still in its early stages and it's questionable if it's going to warrant a big intervention on Konoha's side. But in the case that forces have to be sent out, Takao has decided on a plan for the Uchiha. Since the clan runs the Police Force of Konoha, it would be unwise to send out every last one of us. So Takao has designated Fumio as the head of the Police while he himself will fight in the field. Furthermore, I was ordered to stay in Konoha and act as his second in command."

_Which means that otou-san is safe from the war._

Okaa-chan and I exchange a glance as twin smiles of joy blossom on our faces.

God bless Takao-sama. I take every uncharitable thought that I ever had on him back. Bless him. Otou-san is going to be safe.

* * *

><p>Did you guess the song right? It's "Hero of War" by Rise Against. I seriously love this song and I recommend you to go and listen to it. It was a major inspiration for this chapter.<p>

So, as usual, tell me if you liked the chapter and leave a review. Can you imagine what's gonna happen next? :)


	9. Petty Little Nuisances

My dear patient readers! It took longer to update than I thought - had some difficulties with this. On another note, my finals are over, hooray! I think they went well enough.

By the way, if you want to know the progress of future chapters, have a look at my tumblr blog. I'll post info there.

Thanks to my beta **NightsBlackRose13** for the fast proofreading! You make my life a whole lot easier.

Without further ado, on to the chapter! Longest of this story, yet.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7:<strong> Petty Little Nuisances

Remember when I said I've never dreamt a single dream since being reborn?

Well, tonight I do. It's a vivid one.

I'm standing in front of a house. It's made of red bricks and has two stories, a front garden with climbing roses covering a good part of the left side of the wall and a white front door. A garage is attached to the right side of the building and its door is open, revealing an older model dark blue _Volkswagen Passat_.

It's a typical western middle class house and most definitely not the house that I currently live in. It's not the one in which okaa-chan taught me how to read and write, how to control chakra and how to make onigiri. Not the one otou-san comes home to from a long day of work. Not the one in which my little otouto is lying in his crib or busy crawling on the ground or eating in his baby chair.

This is not my house. Instead, it's home.

Anticipation bubbles in my stomach along with a light throbbing in my temples as I walk up to the white door. There's a window set in it, but the thick glass doesn't really allow me to look in.

I dig my right hand into the pocket of my jacket and take out a set of keys. They make soft clinking noises when I try to make out which is the right one to open the door. I smile fondly as my fingers brush against a matryoshka penchant, the laughing face of the miniature doll shiny from the varnish applied to the wood. My little brother had given it to me when he came back from his trip to Moscow.

I finally find the key. It fits perfectly and the door swings open.

Everything is as I remember. On my left side there's the shoe rack, stacked full of shoes of different sizes for the three people still living here after I moved out for university, and on my right the coatrack, equally as full. A full body mirror leans against the wall right across from where I'm standing and I can see my reflection on its surface.

I unzip my jacket and reveal the outfit underneath. I'm wearing jeans and my favorite blouse. It's made of silk and of a deep emerald color, and I don't look half bad in it if I may say so. But there's a strange feeling in my gut, telling me that something is off. And the throbbing in my head is becoming quite insistent.

I'm puzzled. I do a full rotation in front of the mirror, but as far as I can tell, everything fits perfectly fine: from the uncomplicated bob on my head over the pearl-colored buttons on the blouse to the sneakers, nothing is out of place. I grimace at my reflection and observe as my dark brown eyes narrow to slits, my nose scrunch up and my round-ish features contort into a generally grotesque picture.

"Hey Liz, is that you?"

I look away from my reflection and step through another door, out of the cloak room and into the smaller version of an entrance hall. Light floods in from the opposite side that's completely made of windows which go from the ceiling to the floor and reflects off the light blue tiles under my feet. A wooden staircase winds its way up to the second story from which I heard the voice coming.

"Yeah, just came back" I answer. "Are mom and dad in?"

I groan quietly when, suddenly, something in my head goes off like a jackhammer, pounding against my skull with a resounding echo. The voice sounds distorted when it answers my question.

"Nah, they just went shopping, took the other car. Didn't you notice it missing?"

I can hear feet moving, coming down the stairs. First jeans-clad legs, then a baggy sweater comes into view and when the face appears –

My vision explodes into a million flashing stars and my head straight with it.

I abruptly sit up and find myself in a bed. Blinking several times, I try to shake off the dizziness and disorientation that's threatening to send me right back to oblivion. I feel as if the ground has suddenly dropped, as if somebody has pulled away the rug beneath my feet, leaving me crashing into solid nothingness.

I don't remember dreams to be so unpleasant, especially because normally I wouldn't have categorized this one as a nightmare if not for the aftermath.

_Deep breaths. Feel your chakra._

I calm down gradually, but even as my head clears, the profound feeling of _wrongness_ doesn't leave completely. It's something that comes from deep within my very own bones and I become scared of this thing that's foreign, yet strangely familiar.

I feel the urge to have something solid by my side, something to anchor myself and to help me will this strange sensation away. Preferably warm.

I get off my bed as soon as I'm sure that I won't keel over when my feet touch the ground and walk to the shoji screen, sliding it open. The hallway is dark and deserted, devoid of even the barest hints of light. My family is probably fast asleep.

I stand there for an indecisive moment, not sure what I actually want.

Is it strange if I seriously contemplate crawling into the bed of okaa-chan and otou-san? Seeing that I've always been exceedingly independent, they would probably think so.

Argh. I vote for the right to snuggle with my parents whenever I want to regardless of age and maturity. Declare it as therapeutic necessity.

Not that I need therapy. Goddamnit, it's just a dream. What am I making all that fuss about?

I turn on my heels and almost go back to my bed, but somehow, my body is reluctant to move. The thought of having to go back and face the darkness alone leaves me trembling and gasping for breaths.

Without further thinking, I move five steps to my left and silently open the screen to the room next to mine. I tiptoe to the crib and climb in next to my baby brother. Obito shifts a bit but doesn't wake up, not even as I carefully hug his tiny warm body and hold him close to me. He smells like baby powder and the cedar-scented shampoo okaa-chan uses to wash his hair. It calms me down like nothing else and as I slowly fall asleep, I'm almost confident that I won't dream anymore tonight.

)()()(

In the early morning, I sneak back into my room before anybody can notice that I spent the night in Obito's room.

I'm a bit embarrassed about this whole thing, but at least I'd been right. The sleep after that had been deep and dreamless and I'm pretty sure that this is an isolated case with a slim chance of repeat.

)()()(

"Etsuko" otou-san says at dinner three weeks later. "What do you think about the academy?"

I freeze with my chopsticks halfway to my mouth. My eyes go from otou-san's face to okaa-chan's and what I see makes me uncomfortable.

Because both are watching me rather carefully.

Which in return tells me that they may or may not have planned something.

"Um" I mumble. "It's the place where kids go to become shinobi?"

Otou-san almost sighs. "I didn't actually ask you what the academy is, but I guess that's what I get for being so vague. Let me rephrase it then: Would you like to enroll there?"

"N-now?" I blurt out. "Isn't that a bit e-early … I-I mean I'm only three!"

"New classes will start next spring" okaa-chan begins and otou-san seamlessly takes over. "And by that time you'll be four. I admit that you'll probably be the youngest child to enroll, but your mother and I believe you're more than ready."

And then they fucking smile.

My hands start to sweat as I try to come up with an appropriate answer that will make my opinion on this matter _unmistakably_ clear. Because I do have an opinion on this, one that is set in stone and backed up with solid reasoning.

_I don't want to go to the academy so early._

And with 'going to the academy' I actually mean 'graduation' because I seriously doubt that attending the classes will pose a challenge for me.

Why is that a problem? It is, because early graduation won't do any favors for my goals to protect my family. First, the time which I spend in class will be time spent away from them. Second, time spent on team training as a member of a genin team will be time spent away from them. Third, time spent on missions will be – yeah, you guessed right – time spent away from them.

Which is completely unnecessary, when tutoring me at home will most likely yield the same results in terms of academia and physical skill since I learn much faster when there's nobody around to drag me down.

I'm aware that I couldn't do anything even if I stayed with them every single minute of the day, but for some reason I'm convinced that I'll _know_ if something is amiss. It's a gut feeling, just like watching a TV show or reading a good book and at some point knowing that drama will descend. I'll know and I'd be able to at least warn them.

Even more important than that, though, is something else still: Itachi's fate serves as a grim reminder of what happens to kids in the Uchiha clan if they reveal themselves to be smarter and faster than anybody else. I know that his case was especially extreme since he was _especially_ talented _and_ the clan heir, but I'm still pretty sure that certain tendencies run through this clan like liquid tar. You know, that hot, sticky-as-hell and poisonous stuff?

Yeah_, exactly._

I happen to know how his story ended and as selfish as it sounds, I like my sanity, thank you very much.

My silence seems to last a bit too long because one of otou-san's eyebrows shoots up.

"You _do_ want to become a shinobi, don't you?" he says. His voice is laced with genuine surprise which gives me the impression that he didn't mean to pose this as a leading question. Surprise because he probably never expected me to answer with anything less than enthusiasm, because, let's be honest, I never gave him reason to doubt that I'd want to be a shinobi. If anything, I had always been the one to push both of them to teach me.

"Yes?" I answer timidly.

I think I want to be a shinobi but at the same time, I _don't_ want to be one.

What I want is being able to protect my precious people, which in this world means that I have no choice but to become a ninja, but I never wanted to be one for the sake of being one. I don't want to go on shady missions that could end my life. I don't want to kill people I don't know and who've done no harm to me. _I don't want to dirty my hands._ In this sense, I'm being incredibly selfish again.

It is at this moment that I realize with startling clarity that I've never been anything but selfish.

In my past live I had believed that I belonged to the sort of people who would put the greater good before my own needs. I believed in _honor_, as archaic as this word is, but the concept appealed to me more than any meaning modern terms could convey. I believed I was one of those who acted honorably, chipping in my two cents into university politics and volunteering for social institutions. I believed I was a decent person.

Three and a half years spent in this life, with half a year being practically comatose and two years in a fear induced depression, and I realize that I'd been successfully fooling myself. I realize that I've never really gone out of my way to improve the world as I had so pretentiously thought. Every good deed that I'd ever done had been conveniently lying right in my way and never demanded much of an effort. True, other people thought I was dedicated since there were far more people doing much less, but just because I was interested in the happenings of my immediate environment it didn't make me a better person.

It's also true that in my old life, this kind of involvement had been enough, considering I'd been young and at the beginning of my professional life. I had been living inside the standard bubble of a standard university student, leading a comfortable and privileged life in a wealthy country during peace time, so there'd been no real reason to move beyond my comfort zone.

But here, in a world where losing your life is a workaday risk, those tiny little things mean nothing. Here, trying to improve the world means sacrifice in sweat and blood. It requires idealism and selflessness the size of tailed beasts. The kind of which Jiraiya, Itachi and Naruto are and will be capable of, that's true.

But what is also true, is that out of these three, two had ended up dead.

I know I'm not them, that I could never be. Grand goals crumble to ashes in my mind because they forever lack base. The only things that effectively matter to me are myself and my family, the latter in turn being an extension of myself.

I am but a despicable person.

"I … I need more time to think" I choke out to otou-san and okaa-chan. I can't meet their eyes. "Can I decide this later?"

"Of course you can" Okaa-chan says. She sounds worried. "In fact, you have time until early spring since the academy won't take new students before that. Are you alright, Etsuko-chan?"

I nod. "I'm fine. I just want to go to my room. Please excuse me."

I stand up and practically flee from the room, barely dragging along my dignity and self-respect.

This is going to take some time to sort itself out.

)()()(

There're four chairs in the room, positioned in front of a piano. Before each of them is a music stand made of wood and metal, the kind which you see in almost every music college.

It's a quintet rehearsal. We'll be rehearsing Schumann's piano quintet, I suddenly remember. But if this is a rehearsal, where are my fellow musicians?

"I can't play with this music edition."

I know this voice. It sounds whiny and it's giving me a headache.

"It's shit. The bowings and the dynamics are all wrong. This is not the urtext edition. I refuse to play out of material that isn't urtext."

"Then why the hell did you get this edition in the first place?"

Another voice. I know this one, too. My headache is getting worse.

"I needed something to practice with and I thought Elizabeth would give us the right material!"

"I did" I say. "I put a copy in your locker one week ago."

Where're the people?!

"You should have told me!"

"Don't you ever check your locker?"

"Of course I do, but I didn't see any sheet music in there."

A new voice behind me tunes in. "I had enough of this. I'll take the original and make copies now, so –"

_Oh! That's my brother's –_

My head explodes.

Well, not literally. But the pain certainly leaves that impression.

I sit up, wildly gasping for breath. It takes a few seconds until I'm coherent again. My bed. My room. My dream.

I feel terrible.

Fuck this.

Obito doesn't complain as I crawl beside him and under his blanket. He's asleep, but he subconsciously turns his head to me. He's soft and warm and all the reassurance that I need. I fall asleep pretty quickly with him by my side.

)()()(

Otou-san apparently thinks that giving me one night and day – which I spend mostly moping around in my room – should be enough to deal with whatever problem I have. I hear him approaching and halting before the shoji screen that leads into my room.

"Etsuko, I'm coming in."

And then he's standing in front of my bed, presumably looking down on my sorry self as I lie curled up on the sheets, with my arms wrapped around myself and facing the wall. The dream didn't do me any favors, what with all the self-loathing that I'm busy doing.

Otou-san probably wants to know why I'm not telling him anything – again. Despite the deal we made. Despite the mutual trust we promised to each other. He's justified in feeling wronged, I guess, but that doesn't make it any easier for me.

"Do you know what my job entails, Etsuko?"

Ah. So he's trying to get in through the I'm-your-father-you're-my-daughter-we-both-have-responsibilities-let's-have-a-grown-up-conversation-door. I don't have any comments on that. As I said, I can totally understand his point.

I feel the mattress dip under the added weight of otou-san sitting down.

"I'm sure you know I work as a police officer in the Konoha Police Force. You may know it as the Uchiha Police Force since it's run entirely by our clan, but it is in fact an institution of the village. Every officer is a trained shinobi who has served at least as a genin on active duty once but the overwhelming majority is chuunin or above. It's a career option only open to us Uchiha and a show of trust between the Hokage and the clan."

The more I listen, the more I wonder what otou-san is getting at exactly. Is he not going to read me the riot act for behaving like a mopey brat? Why is he telling me about the Police Force?

"I don't really understand why you need time to decide if you want to enroll in the academy because frankly, your mother and I both are confident that you'll have no difficulties with the classes and we're fairly sure you know it, too. However, we can clearly see that something's bothering you and preventing you from accepting. We can't determine what it is and until you actually talk to us we can't do anything on that front. But since you haven't given us an outright 'no' either, we take it as permission to give you further encouragement."

That catches my attention. Otou-san is so open and sincere about his intentions that it's outright suspicious. But then again, he might actually honor the deal we made, unlike a certain bratty someone. I turn around to see his face. His expression is serious – and honest.

"What kind of encouragement?" I ask.

Otou-san doesn't miss a beat. "Come with me to the Police Force tomorrow."

Uh … ok?

"I want to show you how the organization works. I want you to see the purpose of it and to realize that it serves as an important pillar of Konoha's inner workings. Would that be agreeable to you?"

How can I refuse when he's asking so nicely?

"O-okay."

"Very well. I have a day off tomorrow, so we can go after training and a quick lunch when the afternoon shift starts."

He stands up from the mattress and evens out the folds in his yukata. His ink-black eyes land on me, his gaze thoughtful and tinted with something – softer.

"Sleep well, Etsuko" he says and exits the room.

)()()(

I readily admit that I'm impressed.

The manga showed the building of the Uchiha – no, _Konoha _– Police Force only once, namely when Itachi gave lil' Sasuke a piggy-back ride because the boy had managed to twist his ankle during training. They had passed it on their way home and Itachi had explained why there was a big fat Uchiha fan on a building that was supposedly a village institution.

What the manga didn't show, however, was the fact that the headquarters are right in the middle of Konoha, located closely to the Hokage's quarters. Which makes it the first place I've ever visited that is not in the Uchiha district.

_Whoop-whoop_.

It is a complex consisting of half a dozen buildings, each for the separate branches of the Police Force. The flashiest one is three stories high, built with more glass in the sand-colored walls than one would expect from a building made by a paranoid bunch of people such as ninja and obviously the main building. The style is decidedly western, which surprises me a great deal since Uchiha tend to feel more comfortable with traditional styles.

Otou-san marches straight up to it and we enter the reception hall.

Although it's spacious, it's not particularly inviting. Windows, though not really scarce, are small and thick, making it necessary for a small army of fluorescent lamps to provide enough light. There is a reception desk to the left and a double row of seats on the right, leaving the back with lots of doors and a stairwell. The dominant colors are dark blue and white, and if there's the occasional speck of crimson, I'm not too surprised.

I almost roll my eyes. As if it wasn't clear that this is an Uchiha-run business.

It's not particularly crowded in here, though I spot a few very busy looking relatives darting around.

"This is the main administrative building" otou-san explains. "The offices and archives are in here, as well as all the things concerning civilian cases. There in the back are a few interrogation rooms."

"Only civilian cases?" I ask.

"Yes. For crimes committed by shinobi we have another building. Two actually, if you count in T&I."

A shiver races down my spine at the mention of T&I. I didn't know it had formerly belonged to the Konoha Police Force, but thinking about it, this actually makes sense, since the Konoha Police Force is above all a military force tasked with maintaining the security of the village. It must have become an own branch when the whole thing had to be reorganized in the aftermath of the Uchiha massacre.

I guess it's difficult to maintain an institution when the personnel specialized for it is … absent. I wonder how ANBU dealt with the sudden influx of additional duties.

I suppress a shiver. _This time around, it mustn't come to that_.

"Here is where all the new recruits start out" otou-san continues. "They're tasked to handle the civilian cases until they have proven themselves to be proficient. The Police Force demands from its officers to be absolutely diligent and in top shape at any given time to be capable of restraining and bringing shinobi to justice. Only the strongest can do that and as I said before, it's a sign of respect and trust from the Hokage to the Uchiha clan. He knows that the strength we wield is unrivaled. Etsuko, do you know the origins of the Konoha Police Force?"

I know, but of course I can't show since nobody officially told me, yet, so I shake my head and listen dutifully as otou-san launches into a narration of how the Police Force, whose full name is the Konoha Military Police Force by the way, came into being.

One question is nagging at the back of my mind, though: Does he … does he really believe what he just told me? All of it?

I watch his face as he talks and leads me through the building and realize that, yes, he completely and genuinely believes it.

Nearly four years living in the middle of an Uchiha family and it's the first time in my acquaintance with otou-san and okaa-chan that the superiority complex of this clan is thrust bluntly into my face.

Okaa-chan is all about traditions, true, about understanding what it means to be an Uchiha – the hairpin is in a small wooden box in the last drawer of my closet, hidden under a pile of neatly folded sleeping gowns, by the way – and during training with otou-san there has always been this strong undercurrent of highest expectations flowing through his regimen. But to hear it so directly is kinda … stunning.

I think this place is partly to blame for it, too.

What his explanations also show me, though, is that the Uchiha still seem to be on relatively good terms with the village administration. Tobirama must have been a particularly persuasive talker when he offered them the control over the Police Force to have successfully disguised his true interest of channeling the Uchiha rage into something productive for the village and Hiruzen must have carried that on rather admirably.

Hah. Who am I trying to fool? Tobirama, a persuasive talker? That was Hashirama's strong suit, not his.

… which only leaves the solution that the Uchiha _wanted_ to believe whatever he fed them as long as it brought peace.

Apparently, even the strongest grow tired of never ending fights – with the exception of dear old Madara of course.

"Nobuo! What a surprise to see you here. It's your day off, isn't it?"

Otou-san and I both turn around to look at the person who has addressed him. We're inside his office by now and there, leaning against the doorframe is a middle-aged Uchiha. His tall form is clad in typical jounin wear, green flak jacket over a dark shirt and pants, though the flak jacket looks kinda … strange. Its color is lighter and it lacks the scroll pouches on the chest leaving it plainer than the version I'm used to. Is this some kind of special Uchiha jacket?

His face has some deep lines at the corners of his mouth, giving him a default serious look, but his eyes are surprisingly expressive as he takes us in with an interested gaze. His dark hair has wide silver streaks in it and sticks from his head in wild spikes.

"Tomomi-senpai! I was wondering if we would run into you today. This is my daughter Etsuko and I'm currently showing her our work place. Etsuko, this is my partner Tomomi."

I bow quickly. "A pleasure to meet you, Uchiha-san."

Tomomi smirks at that. "My, if you call me Uchiha-san here, every single person will turn their head. Call me Tomomi, Etsuko-chan. And it's a pleasure to meet you, too."

"Alright, Tomomi-san" I reply like the well-behaved little girl I am.

"So, are you going home now?" otou-san asks.

Tomomi nods. "My wife has prepared a feast for our 25th anniversary, so I'm leaving. I think the people can handle themselves just fine."

"Congratulations, senpai!" otou-san says and I'm almost shocked to see a real smile flash across his face. I catch the movement of his left thumb as it tenderly rubs against the silvery band on his ring finger.

I giggle internally and have to bite my lip not to let it bubble out. _Otou-san is secretly a sap._

"Thank you. Well, I'm on my way now. Have a nice evening!" Tomomi gives otou-san a nod, me a jovial wink and leaves.

Otou-san turns to me. "We'll leave soon, too. Do you have any specific questions? Anything you want to see?"

Well, I am curious. "Would it be ok to show me what you're currently working on?"

"Unfortunately not. Current investigations are strictly confidential. But I can show you some cases in the archive if you want."

"Yes, please!"

For that, we have to go to the basement. We make our way downstairs, but before we have even entered the reception hall, we can hear agitated voices.

"… want a real officer, not some rookie who doesn't understand the importance of this!"

A woman stands before the reception desk, yelling at the person manning it. She has a little girl at her side. Both of their attires practically scream 'wealthy civilian'.

The desk officer valiantly tries to pacify her. "We assure you, all officers working here are fully capable of handling your case-"

"I refuse! I refuse to let this be busted by some stupid mistake made by a bloody beginner! If you don't bring me a _professional_ in the next five minutes I'm going to talk to-"

Otou-san is there with three quick strides. "Excuse me, can I help you?"

My relative at the desk practically sags with relief. Poor guy.

"Are you an officer here?" the woman asks. She's not particularly tall, but she's doing her best trying to look down on otou-san. "You don't look like one."

"As a matter of fact, I am. I'm not wearing my uniform at the moment so that might be confusing for you." Otou-san is markedly polite. "I heard that you're refusing to let our regular officers on duty handle your case. May I inquire as to why?"

The woman sizes him up for a few seconds and is apparently satisfied with what she sees. "I'm Yanai Emiko, wife of Yanai Tadashi, the richest man in the village. I am here to file a report concerning a family heirloom of great value that was stolen from me and I want an experienced officer to lead the investigation."

Otou-san patiently waits until her rant is over. "Is this all?"

Yanai Emiko screeches in indignation. "You clearly don't understand –"

Otou-san's left eye has developed a tick in the last approximately 30 seconds, but the rest of his poker face is remarkably well maintained. "I understand very well, Yanai-san" he interrupts her. "Although I'm currently not on duty, I'm willing to take over. Please follow me to one of the interrogation rooms. I'll file your report there."

Yanai sniffs dramatically. "At least there's one sensible person around." Then she turns around to the little girl at her side – that I had honestly long forgotten about.

"Akiko, you stay here and wait until I'm finished."

"Yes, okaa-san" Akiko answers meekly.

Otou-san dips his head apologetically in my direction and leads Yanai to one of the rooms at the back of the hall.

Left alone in the reception hall, I'm at a loss at what to do. The desk officer has returned to his paper work in the small room behind the desk, door almost shut, and suddenly, I'm aware that it's rather quiet. I decide to sit down and walk to the row of seats. Akiko is already there, sitting on the dark blue covers like a princess and watching me with an expression that says something along the line of clear disdain.

Whoa.

Forget the Uchiha superiority complex. This is on a whole new level.

Up close, I realize that the little girl actually isn't as little as I thought, at least age wise. Although she's not much taller than me, I can see that she must be actually several years older, maybe by six or seven years. She has light brown hair like her mother, falling in curls past her shoulders, very pale skin and a face like a doll, even though it's kinda pointed.

She reminds me of someone, especially her arrogant expression, but I can't put a finger on it.

I settle down on my own chair and have just gotten comfortable when I hear her voice again. This time it sounds decidedly not meek, more commanding and – dare I say it – _bitchy_.

"Uchiha!"

Even her voice tugs at something in my memory, but for the life of me, I can't seem to recall a name. I look up from my legs that I'm currently busy tucking into a neat lotus position and look in her direction.

"Yeah you, little girl!"

Oh, the audacity.

I don't deign to give her an answer, simply raising my left eyebrow instead.

"I'm thirsty. Go and fetch me some water."

Excuse me?!

'_I can't play with this music edition'_ a similar voice echoes in my mind. It's completely out of place, so I ignore it.

I snort. "Go fetch your own water if you want to drink. I'm not your servant."

"My feet hurt" she whines. "It's too hard to stand up."

'_It's shit. The bowings and the dynamics are all wrong.'_

"Tough luck" I answer breathily. "Looks like you won't be getting water anytime soon, then."

"You're younger than me. You have to do what I say!"

'_This is not the urtext edition.'_

This voice is getting annoying. It's hard enough having to deal with one wanna-be princess, I can live without having a second one in my head, thank you very much. And could you please turn down the volume? You're starting to drown princess Akiko over there.

Which reminds me, she just said something, didn't she?

"Sorry, what was that?"

That irritates her. "You have to listen when I'm talking!"

'_I refuse to play out of material that isn't urtext.'_

"You insolent brat!"

'_I needed something to practice with –'_

"Bring me water! Now!"

'– _and I thought Elizabeth would give us the right material!'_

"SHUT UP, Amanda!"

Dead silence greets me.

I have to open my eyes to realize that I have clenched them shut. My hands are curled up into fists, nails digging into my palm, and it costs me conscious effort to release them.

"What?"

My head snaps up again and I see confusion on Amanda's face. No, she's not Amanda – her name is Akiko – Amanda is someone else – I don't know – who is Amanda?!

"How should I know? You called me that!"

I must've spoken the last question out loud because she – Akiko – is looking at me like I'm some deranged hyena.

A deranged hyena. Hysterical laughter bubbles up from my stomach and I double over from the exertion of expelling it. Deranged hyena indeed! Just like Shenzi, Banzai and Ed from the lion king. Quick, where is Scar to rein me in?

I nearly tumble from my seat as the three start dancing in my mind, their movements jerky and out of sync. It's hilarious to watch them.

Now a drum has started playing, too. Its rapid beat meets the grotesque dance of the hyenas, taking control of their movements and rising steadily in volume. Faster and faster the rhythm goes, faster and faster the hyenas dance and as they all spiral into one gigantic blur of bodies and sounds, I tumble with them into an abyss of swirling colors.

* * *

><p>So, how did you like it? I'd love to hear your thoughts! And by the way, for all fans of good classical music, check out Schumann's piano quintet. It's a thing of beauty.<p> 


	10. When It All Goes Down Part 1

Hiya guys, I'm back with an update! I know I promised to be back to my old writing speed and I swear I've been writing _every day_ but damn, that chapter was no easy ride.

My gorgeous beta and accomplice in crime in everything concerning the plot, **NightsBlackRose13**, has given their blessing, though, so here it is for your reading pleasure!

**Warning:** Unpleasant dreams and angst ahead. And, as the title says, it's part 1 one of a two-parter.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8:<strong> When It All Goes Down Part 1

I wake up in my bed.

It's still dark and I can barely make out the shape of my hand as I hold it in front of my face. The digital alarm on my nightstand tells me it's 7.30 in the morning and I groan. I _am_ usually a fairly early riser, but today, this feels entirely too early to be right.

I pull my blanket back over my head, but just as I'm about to make myself comfortable again, the door to my room swings open, letting in a sudden influx of glaring light.

"Liz, you awake?" a voice calls out tentatively.

"No" I mumble from underneath my blanket. "No, I'm deeply asleep, go away."

"Oh sorry" the voice answers. "Well, just wanted to tell you that I'm out now."

Despite everything, I have to smile. I let my head poke out from my blanket burrito and see him standing in the doorway, sporting a sheepish look and rubbing the back of his neck. My brother Link is a very tall boy who moves a bit awkward because the growth spurt hit him too fast and out of nowhere. He has black hair and features that greatly resemble mine as we have often been told, except that his skin has a darker tone. We used to joke that we were actually twins and explained our age gap of three years with him being late to his own birth, seeing as he has a habit of being late to literally everything.

Of course, his real name isn't Link. It's Lincoln, but we thought that nicknaming him after the dork with the green hat from the Zelda games was appropriate. At times, they even have the same lost puppy look to them.

"Ok, duly noted" I answer him. "Have a fun day."

Link grimaces at that. "Yeah, because having to write an exam is so much fun."

I cackle gleefully at that. Really, it doesn't take much for me to get into a ridiculously good mood when I'm talking to him.

"You know, exams don't stop when you get to university. They're just all piled up at the end of term and trust me, it's even less fun to prepare for all of them at once than just preparing for one in the middle of the school year."

"I know" Link sighs. "Anyway, gotta go now, I'm gonna be late as it is." He gives me a wave and disappears from my line of sight.

"When are you not late?" I holler after him and laugh loudly when a grumpy "Be quiet!" comes back.

I love my dorky little brother dearly. Even after he's managed to get me fully awake, the chance of getting a bit of more sleep floating away on a fluffy cloud of sweet and unfulfilled promises.

_Sigh._

I get up and ready for the day, descending the stairs that lead to the entrance hall and meet my mom who is already up, too, because she never fails to make breakfast for us, no matter when we have to rise. After three and a half years of living in a dorm and fencing for myself, occasionally coming back for that kind of service is a luxury I gladly indulge in. My mom is the greatest person on Earth and I'll fight anyone on that.

She's currently putting laundry on the drying rack, her hair bound back in a tidy bun and every strand perfectly in place. They shimmer in a dark read tone near the roots, originating from the dye she puts in there to cover the fact that they've begun to turn gray.

"Morning, mom!" I chirp.

"Morning, Liz" she answers. She looks up from her work and gestures in the direction of the kitchen. "Breakfast is ready."

My "thank you" is stuck dead in my throat when I look into her eyes.

They're a bright crimson, three black commas swirling lazily in each orb.

A sudden pain stabs me right through my chest and – _oh god I can't breathe_ – my knees suddenly go weak, leaving my legs unable to support the weight of my body. I'm falling, _falling,_ through the stairs and the floor, swallowed up by a crack in the world that has opened right under my feet.

)()()(

I wake up in my bed, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. My chest hurts badly, as if someone has grabbed my heart with both hands and started squeezing.

And I know why. I remember the dream.

Not the details, but enough to know that something went horribly wrong, that my brain engineered something that is entirely impossible. Dread crawls up from my gut, bottomless and terrifyingly familiar, and I wrap my arms around my middle section. A whimper escapes my lips as I bend over and rest my forehead on my drawn-up knees.

I don't want it. Neither the dread nor the dream.

My desire to get rid of _it_ burns with an intensity that rivals Amaterasu, one part of me screaming _Shove it back! Destroy it! It never happened! _while the other stubbornly clings to it. _Find the meaning in it_, it insists, _find it, it's important!_

I don't care. I don't want it.

What I want is to be out of this darkness, out of this room and to be with someone solid and real and _not_ _wrong_ to forget this whole nightmarish affair.

I want to see my family.

_Which one?_ the annoyingly persistent part asks, but I push it into a steel-reinforced vault and lock its door. I didn't even know that my mind has these in stock, but I'm not going to question it right now because, frankly, I'm much too relieved about its existence.

The tatami mats on the ground are cold when my feet touch them and I make a detour for my closet, grabbing a pair of socks and putting them on before moving out into the hallway. There's light pouring out from underneath the shoji screen that leads into the living room and I can hear hushed voices. I inch closer.

"… said that she's physically alright" I can hear otou-san say. He sounds incredibly exhausted.

"Does he have any idea what it could be then? Another panic attack?" Okaa-chan's anxious voice asks. I think they're talking about me. I crouch down in front of the paper screen, my ear pressed tightly against it.

There's a muffled response that I can't make out clearly. Then a pause.

"What do we do now?" Okaa-chan sounds so lost. I think I've never heard her in so vulnerable a state and my chest clenches at the thought that I am responsible for that.

"There's always the possibility to call on the Yamanaka, I guess" otou-san suggests wearily.

I feel the bottom of my stomach drop.

_No._

You can't do that. You can't. Please don't do that to me.

My hand is already at the frame of the shoji screen, just short of ripping it open when I hear the noise of a porcelain cup being forcefully placed upon the table top.

"No!" okaa-chan cries out enraged. My hand stills as does my breathing. "I will not hand my child over to those mind crawlers! She's an Uchiha, not a goddamn war criminal and I refuse to let them break into her and violate her mind!"

"It might be the only way, though" otou-san tiredly counters. "Don't think for a minute that I want to do this. But if this continues I'd rather see her be examined by one of them than let her go any further than she already is."

Go further than I already am?

"You didn't see her, Kiyomi. I … I didn't see the beginning, either, but I saw the end. She was on the ground, writhing and screaming and … it was – it was terrifying. She wouldn't calm down until I made her look into my eyes."

_Oh._

I don't think I can take this anymore. I stand up, my legs wobbly and barely strong enough to carry my weight, and stumble down the hall, keeping close to the wall lest I should stumble and fall. My shoulders are shaking with silent sobs as I put one foot in front of the other, leading me past the shoji screen to my own room and into Obito's.

Obito won't judge me. Obito is safe.

As I climb into his crib and lay down beside him I see that his eyes are wide open. He's watching me with a curious, open expression, legs wiggling beneath his covers and one tiny fist halfway stuffed in his mouth. It makes me smile.

"Hey Obi" I greet him with a disgustingly shaky voice. "'Sup?"

He removes the fist from his mouth, instead reaching with both hands for my face. When his fingers connect with my cheek, he lets out a soft cooing noise. He pokes and prods lightly at me, making me giggle, and I lift my own hand to catch his. I'm surprised to feel moisture on both of them and I touch my face to see if there's anything on it. My fingertips come away wet, too.

It takes a moment until realization dawns. I must've been crying.

Obito coos again and I look back to his face, just in time to see a smile bloom across it. It's genuine, trusting and comforting in a way that I desperately need. What's even more important, though, is the assurance that it's entirely meant for me.

Right here, right now, it's the most beautiful and encouraging thing in the world.

)()()(

The next few weeks go by in a blur of recurring dreams by night and the careful attempt to keep it together by day.

Otou-san and okaa-chan treat me with extreme caution, worry etched deeply into lines on their faces that have only recently developed. They've apparently come to the conclusion that as long as my situation doesn't worsen they won't take any action. In reaction to that, I'm putting all my energy into maintaining the illusion of a stable status quo which in turn has led to the current situation in which our every interaction feels like we're walking on eggshells around each other. I've come to hate it with a fierce passion and I'm fairly sure they hate it, too, but we're all at a loss of what to do.

I'm not sure if it counts as a consolation when the tension bleeds into something habitual over time. I've read somewhere that latent chronic stress is not particularly healthy, but at the moment it makes it far easier to bear.

I can tell that they are especially afraid to bring up the incident at the Police Force, but that's at least something I can be glad about. It also makes things easier to manage.

What doesn't get easier to manage, though, are the dreams.

They happen every few nights. While I dream them, they're incredibly vivid and detailed, but as soon as I'm awake, they fade into nothing more than a feeling of profound dread deep in my gut, sometimes accompanied by that clenching pain in my chest. With every added dream, I feel myself getting sucked closer to a void, tendrils of darkness intertwining themselves with my very thoughts and emotions. They pull at me with a persistence that slowly but surely pushes me to my limit and the only thing that prevents me from simply giving in, that allows me to raise the energy for at least an ounce of resistance, is the existence of Obito.

He's the beacon of hope that sends a ray of light into my personal darkness, the lifeline I cling to with the desperation of a drowning man, my sanctuary. He's the one I think of when I slide back to my habit of stomping over any unease with the familiar concept of practice, improving my taijutsu in leaps and bounds and viciously attacking the walls of my room with chakra-infused feet.

And you know it's bad when your baby brother is the only reason why you're not going insane.

)()()(

While interactions within the four walls of our home float more or less in a state of stasis, the world around us – not so surprisingly –keeps moving on.

It's palpable in the rising tension in the air, conversations more hushed, mouths drawn tighter and eyes grimmer on the faces of the people. There are whispered rumors of discord among the village leaders which I translate for myself as disagreements between the Sandaime and Danzou, of a possible pre-emptive strike against Iwa and Suna on Ame territory and I think of three children who will soon taste the bitter pain of loss, one of them even by the hands of Konoha nin.

It's a sobering thought for me, who is sitting safely within the walls of one of the biggest Hidden Villages, and I realize that there're things out there that dwarf all of my petty little problems.

It's still not enough to make them go away, though.

Neither this nor the public announcement of the Hokage that it's time for Konoha to take action in the war on a sunny day at the beginning of November.

I stand with my family at the gates of the village when the first batch of Konoha shinobi prepares to march out towards Ame, bidding goodbye to the few Uchiha that are leaving with them. Among them are Takao-sama, the commander of this vanguard, his second son Fugaku and Tomomi, and I think of a smile seen just a couple of months before, fond in anticipation of a feast to honor 25 years of marriage.

Otou-san is standing with him, his partner in the Police Force since the day of his recruitment, their hands tightly clasped and eyes interlocked. Their faces are nigh unreadable but their lips moving, words murmured too softly for me to hear and then, without forewarning, Tomomi draws otou-san close for a hug that lasts long enough for him to relax in the embrace. The elder releases his hold and turns to give okaa-chan a lopsided grin and me a wave, before he steps to a middle-aged woman that has patiently waited her time. She, too, is enveloped in a hug, though longer and more tender.

And then time is up.

There's a signal and without further delay the shinobi leave.

They're gone so fast that, even after the last figures have left, the people staying behind don't move. I see dazed faces and wayward tears and I think – nothing.

My blank stare is mirrored by the middle-aged woman standing across from my family, her stance frozen in a mere half of a hug since that's all that one body alone can manage.

)()()(

It's thankfully on a more cheery note when I discover a few days later that Obito has started teething.

I can't wait for brilliant smiles and cheeky grins that will light up even the darkest shadows. I expect nothing more and nothing less.

)()()(

Applause roars up like the battle cries of a hundred lions as soon as the last tunes have left the strings of my violin. Calls of "Bravo!" cut through the sound of a sea of clapping hands and I'm getting drunk on euphoria. Adrenaline is racing through my veins, leaving me as high as a kite and practically _glowing_.

This is my reward.

Hundreds of hours of practicing, liters of ice-cream consumed in phases of total discouragement and half a dozen motivational speeches from my teacher later and I'm finally here, having successfully played my solo recital and so damn ready to receive my artist's diploma.

I totally owned it and it feels nothing short of amazing.

My blood is still boiling from my performance of Ravel's "Tzigane" when individuals start to separate themselves from the mass of people that made up my audience to congratulate me on my achievement.

The first one to come up to me and give me a crushing hug is my professor. He's bursting with pride which makes me incredibly happy, since he's the number one person who had to suffer through the various ups and downs of my artistic development in the last four years.

Behind him are mom, dad and Link. The latter one tackles me with a huge dorky grin and lifts me off my feet after making sure that my violin is safely put away.

"That was awesome, Liz!" he yells right into my ear.

Usually, that would have earned him a solid smack on the head and a rant on _how our ears are our most precious assets, so be a bit more considerate, dumbass!_ – which he already knows since he's a musician himself – but tonight, it's alright. I laugh brightly and tell him that I know.

Dad pats my shoulder after Link has let me back down and mom beams at me.

"I'm so proud of you" she says, eyes shining and laugh lines deepening from her smile. "I knew I was right to give you that hair pin."

I stop in the middle of the process of hugging her.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Don't you remember, sweetie?" she laughs.

Something is wrong.

Her hair has suddenly grown longer and the color at the roots has darkened to a black so deep, it's been years since I'd last seen it there.

"You know the one! Silver, two lilies, family heirloom? The one I gave you before Obito's introduction ceremony?"

_No._

My body reacts before my mind has decided on what to do and I _screamscreamscream _–

- only to wake up, amid the tangled sheets of my bed and bathed in sweat.

My heart is pounding wildly, my breath coming in abrupt bursts that are completely out of rhythm. There's no time for waiting, because I'm fairly sure that I'm going to drown here in the darkness of my room any minute now. So I jump out of my bed and practically _run _into Obito's room, almost tripping over something that lies on the ground between the shoji screen and his crib, and climb into it in a matter of seconds. I press him so tightly against me that he wakes up, letting out a short distressed noise.

"'m sorry, Obi" I sob against his forehead, loosening my hold on him enough to let him breathe. "Sorry to disturb you."

Obito croaks something that sounds suspiciously like a sob himself and it's enough to rip me out of the suffocating tunnel that the dream has driven me into because _Obito is not supposed to cry, ever._

"_Ohmygod_, I'm so sorry, Obi, so sorry! Please don't cry, please don't! I'm sorry!" I whisper frantically as I pat his back, trying to be soothing and not entirely sure if it's working. I count it as a victory when his sobs die down to hiccups and he snuggles closer to my embrace.

Victories are hard to come by these days and I know for sure, have known for a while now, that I won't be able to keep up doing whatever I'm doing right now, that I'm bound to break at any given moment.

But then I remember my goal, thickly underlined in one of the notebooks hidden under my mattress, and remind myself that I need to hold on, at least until it's reasonable to assume that otou-san and okaa-chan will stay alive and Obito won't become an orphan anytime soon. I cling to it and will it to turn into the glue that keeps my world together.

In the silence of the room, the steady beat of Obito's tiny heart feels like the only thing that's not about to shatter.

)()()(

"It's beautiful outside" okaa-chan says cautiously. "Sunny and warm for November."

I look up from my breakfast with bleary eyes. I'm pretty sure I look like a zombie who's freshly crawled out of a rotten casket, but I'm relieved I managed to get out of Obito's room earlier – and no, I didn't mean Obi's room to be a rotten casket – without being caught. It was a close call, though, as I'd been able to hear the shoji screen to okaa-chan and otou-san's bedroom sliding open.

"Hn" I answer non-committally.

Okaa-chan looks like she's waiting for something more, but I have absolutely no idea what I can offer her, so I simply stare back and wait for her to continue this conversation. She sighs.

"I thought about having a picnic. Your father has the night shift today and it's been a long time since we've done something as a family, apart from dinner. What do you say?"

Her eyes are hopeful as she watches and I already feel guilty for planning to shoot her suggestion down, albeit politely. But I'm so utterly drained of energy that I count it as some kind of achievement that I got out of bed at all.

Before I can open my mouth, though, otou-san beats me to it.

"That sounds wonderful" he comments. "I was going to train with Etsuko anyway, so you can join us for lunch."

Jesus Christ. Apparently I'm the only one who doesn't think this is a good idea.

"No need" okaa-chan chirps. "I'm curious about her training anyway, since I've never seen her progress with my own eyes. I'll come with you two."

I hide my face in my hands and groan. Why is nobody even pretending to be interested in what I might have to say about that?

)()()(

Despite my earlier reluctance I admit that this is … actually not so bad.

Both okaa-chan and otou-san's eyes shine with pride and approval as I show them my katas and throw a handful of shuriken dead in the center of the wooden poles, even though I'm not as good with kunai. Otou-san and I spar, too, and in these couple hours I am free from the burdens that threaten to crush me beneath their weight, free in the flurry of movements that spell out _strike-block-punch-block-block-kick_, free to let myself go and put all my emotions out into the open. It's as close as I'll ever get to the feeling of letting loose on my violin without being suspicious and I grab this opportunity with both hands.

Lunch is delicious, rich in flavor and filling and it's the first time in a while that I don't have to force the food down my throat. Conversations are light, though mostly between otou-san and okaa-chan since I'm busy with Obito who's sitting on my lap. He seems to have found the world's most interesting thing in the grass that we're sitting on and tries to sneak blades past my watchful eye and into his mouth.

_Nope, Obi, I won't let you feed on grass when there's okaa-chan's fantastic cooking to be eaten_.

When we finish eating, okaa-chan packs all the boxes back into the basket and suddenly, I feel the need to prolong the moment. I'm afraid that as soon as we enter our house, all the shadows will fall back into place and I desperately want to hold on to this and not let go.

"Wait!" I exclaim and both okaa-chan and otou-san look at me. "I … I want to show you something else!"

Otou-san raises an eyebrow. "Ah? What is it?"

Good question indeed. What can I show them that they haven't already seen? Taijutsu is all I've learned until now since I lack chakra reserves for ninjutsu and the knowhow for genjutsu and I already showed them that. The only thing that they've not seen yet is the full extent of my chakra control.

Time for some tree climbing then.

I beckon them to follow me to the group of trees at the edge of the training field and they do me that favor, with Obito sitting on okaa-chan's arm and eyes shining bright with glee. I think he loves being outside.

I make sure that they're watching as I stand in front of the trunk of a relatively young tree and I wonder shortly how often the plants on the training fields need to be replaced, but I shove the thought back into a corner of my mind and gather chakra in my feet.

Only to realize that I'm still wearing my sandals, which massively alters my sensory perception down there. Well, shit. But I'm too proud to step back and chuck them off now, after all the suspense I've been building up.

Here goes nothing, then.

With baited breath, I put my right chakra-infused foot on the bark, followed closely by the left – and am incredibly relieved to see that they stick. It feels different with the sandals between my soles and the trunk, and the tree itself responds differently than the wall in my room. I wait a bit to steady the flow of my chakra and when I'm confident enough, I start walking, up an up into the green. Once or twice I almost slip, but I'm fast to correct my mistakes and half a minute after I've made first contact with the tree I'm sitting on one of its branches at least 50 feet from the ground.

From up here, otou-san and okaa-chan seem really small. They're looking up, both faces sporting a decidedly proud expression and I wave at them before I jump down.

Which is something I clearly didn't think through, because in the middle of the fall, I realize that I'm coming down from 50 feet of height.

Without any idea of how I'm going to land and not end up like a smashed potato.

Oh god.

Now might be a good time to ask for help.

I open my mouth to let out a graceless screech, but any sound that I make is swallowed up by fabric on something solid and half a second later I've stopped falling.

I blink.

I'm cradled in otou-san's arms who stands firmly on the ground and is sporting an amused quirk in his lips. It's warm and safe and I realize that he must have picked me up in the air.

"Oops" I grin sheepishly.

He almost rolls his eyes. "Oops indeed."

He lets me down on my feet again and I look at okaa-chan who's beaming excitedly at me. "When did you learn this, Etsuko-chan? I wasn't aware that you have moved on to expelling chakra from points other than your hands!"

"Uh … I just kinda thought, why not?" I answer carefully. No need to tell her that I'd needed the challenge to drown my nightly problems.

"I'm so proud of you" she says, eyes shining and smile radiant. "I knew I was right to give you that hair pin."

Wait. This is … familiar.

"What?" I ask out loud, confused and with dread crawling up my spine.

"Don't you remember, sweetie?" she laughs.

Oh god, _no_.

"You know the one! Silver, two lilies, family heirloom? The one I gave you before Obito's introduction ceremony?"

I freeze on the spot.

_How is this possible?_

And even more important:

_Why do I remember? Why is there something to remember at all?_

A croak escapes my throat and the sound reverberates in my conscience with the power of a Chinese gong. Ripples expand from the focus of my vision until the edges fray into bare threads of grey, the faces starting to swim, bleeding into –

_Slap._

Suddenly, I'm looking to my right and my cheek is burning.

"Focus, Etsuko" a firm voice commands.

It is the only thing that stands unwavering at the moment, so I obey. The color rushes back into my vision and I turn my head to the speaker, realizing with no little surprise that it's okaa-chan. She has a no-nonsense expression on her face, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed into a thin line. It softens a bit when she sees that I have my mental faculties back.

"How do you feel?" she asks quietly.

"Umm, dizzy?" I answer, uncertainty soaking my voice. I look over to otou-san who's watching us closely. His face is perfectly impassive, which tells me that he's upset. Or at least not entirely calm.

Was it that bad? Did I have another screaming fit? I wish I could remember.

Asking them is out of the question. They would realize that I've had a lapse in memory which would lead to them interrogating me and I definitely don't want that.

"I want to go home" I say with a very small voice and hope that they don't ask.

For a moment none of them move and I'm afraid that I'll have to face their demand for answers right here, right now. Okaa-chan looks over to otou-san who is staring at me.

And then, almost imperceptibly, he nods.

Okaa-chan turns back to me. "Etsuko, we'll go home now. And we both hope that when we're there, you'll have decided that we're trustworthy of knowing what's going on. We don't want to pressure you, but we want you to know that we're very worried because it's clear, has been for a while, that you're not feeling well."

I swallow thickly and nod. What choice do I have?

On our way home I have just enough time to let my internal organs freeze over, rendering me almost paralyzed when we arrive. By the time we make it to the living room I feel like fainting. I don't know how I'm supposed to present the case without them calling a Yamanaka as a result, because, frankly, dreams that cause this level of stress and leave no memories except for dread are a pretty solid reason to call one. Even I can see that.

While otou-san and I get seated, okaa-chan puts Obito into his crib. He's already fallen asleep in her arms on the way and I can't help but feel even more helpless with him gone. She comes back and theoretically, we're ready to begin.

With emphasis on 'theoretically'.

The three of us sit in an awkward circle, neither of us knowing how to begin. It's made even more terrible by the fact that, not half an hour ago, we had been as close to the perfect happy family as humanly possible. How could everything have gone awry so fast?

"So" otou-san finally says. He doesn't continue, though, instead looking at me with expectation written clear on his face.

"Soo" I say at length. I guess that time's up. Might as well get it over with. I take a deep breath and blurt out "Ikindahavethosereallyweirddreams."

Okaa-chan arches an eyebrow. "Weird dreams?"

"You see, I don't really remember them, but they make me feel really uncomfortable and I … ah … today there was this really weird thing when something you said felt like it came straight from one of those dreams and that's really really weird because I usually don't remember details and –"

My elaborate explanation that has probably caused more confusion than anything else up until now is interrupted by the sound of a messenger hawk landing on the window sill. There's a yellow band around one of its claws with a tiny scroll attached to it and otou-san motions me to stop.

He retrieves the message, allowing the hawk to leave and unfurls the scroll. A crease appears between his eyebrows as he reads.

"Fumio is calling me to the main building" he informs us.

"But you're on nightshift today" okaa-chan says. "Has something happened?"

"I don't know. It says something about the village barriers, but there're no details."

Okaa-chan blanches. "They – they have not been breached, have they?"

"I don't think so. Fumio would have sent code red instead of yellow in that case. But I still have to leave."

He looks at me. "We'll continue this when I'm back."

I nod, ridiculously relieved that the interrogation has been postponed.

I watch as he leaves the room to get himself ready. Okaa-chan does, too, and when she starts biting on her lip I realize that she looks worried. It makes me antsy in turn.

I hope this barrier thing is nothing too serious.

* * *

><p>Ok guys, that's it for this time. I hope to bring you the next chap real soon and I'll try not to take longer than one week. My longterm goal is something like at least once a week as long as I'm not in the middle of some crisis.<p>

By the way, check out Rave's "Tzigane" (which means "Gypsy", but I wouldn't take it too seriously), it's a really fun piece. I'm playing it now and having a blast.


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